


Easing The Ache

by firecracker189



Series: Our Little Family [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Regression, Avengers Family, BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Maria Hill, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Phil Coulson, BAMF Tony Stark, Baby!Steve, Domestic Avengers, Doting!Thor, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Middle!Clint, Mom!Natasha, Non-Sexual Age Play, Papa!Phil, So be warned, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Teen!Bruce, Teen!Tony, Thor is understanding of the littles, Uncle!Bucky, Uncle!Phil, Uncle!Thor, always when it's between two people that are Big or don't have a headspace, aunt!maria, aunt!natasha, because they have that back on asgard too, but never when someone is in headspace, caregiver!Natasha, caring!Thor, daddy!Bucky, maybe some slight smutty stuff later but maybe not, so he helps them, sorta au of ragnarok for the last few chapters till ppl get back home, there will be Phil/Maria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-03-02 22:33:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13327764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecracker189/pseuds/firecracker189
Summary: Bucky is Steve's Dad, Phil is everyone else's Dad. Natasha is... a Mom? They're an unorthodox family, but it helps heal the ache inside. Or: The Avengers work out the bumps in the road and figure out how this whole age regression thing works. Steve and Bucky help.Part One: The Ache InsideThis work at the end is slightly AU to Thor: Ragnarok.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Giannavale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giannavale/gifts), [LittleSpider4Dadpool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpider4Dadpool/gifts), [clairell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairell/gifts), [Starkling_19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkling_19/gifts), [summerhurleys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhurleys/gifts), [Bam4Me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/gifts).



It was a few days before anything came of their conversation, Phil and Natasha wanting to make sure Clint was mobile again before they had their little group pow-wow. In the days leading up to Clint being stable enough to come down to the common floor, Steve became increasingly antsy and fidgety, nervous about sharing something with the team he’d kept hidden for so long. Bucky too, seemed to be a bit nervous about it all, but Phil chalked it up to simply feeding off Steve’s energy. The day before they were due to meet, Natasha, Phil, Bucky, and Steve all met together in Steve and Bucky’s apartment to discuss how they wanted things to flow. Steve stood nervously in the middle of the room, too full of energy to sit down as Phil and Natasha sat down in the cozy chairs to either side of the fireplace. Bucky came in last, moving to grab Steve by the collar and push him down into a sitting position.

“Siddown, runt. Everything’s gonna be fine,” he said fondly, tone soft to combat Steve’s anxiety. “Promise, really, it will.” Bucky murmured as he sat down beside Steve and put an arm around him. “Just calm down, okay? Maybe you and I can spend some time together later and relax, hmm? You can take a bath, maybe we can watch a nature show together? That sound good?” Bucky hadn’t noticed that he’d slipped into inadvertent caretaker mode, voice taking a lilting tone to soothe his agitated charge, though Phil and Natasha perked up at hearing the change. Steve responded in kind, seeming to shrink a little before their eyes as he nodded quietly and murmured a little ‘yeah’ in response. Bucky smiled to himself as he rubbed Steve’s shoulder, turning back to face Phil. “So,” he began. “Big day tomorrow for uh, for all of us really. We should talk about how we want this to go, just in case I end up having to get Steve out of there.” Steve made a little squeak of fear, and Phil hurried to encourage him.

“Don’t worry, Steve. I’m sure that won’t happen, especially not if you’re Little at the time. Bucky’s just trying to cover all our bases in case the most extreme and least likely scenario plays out,” he smiled softly, eyes warm. “Okay? Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

Steve curled into Bucky’s side and hid his face, Bucky smoothly turning to pivot him onto his lap so that he could properly hide himself in his neck. Twining his arms around Steve’s back, Bucky held him close and licked his lips. That little jolt of panic had messed with his headspace somehow, but he didn’t seem to be completely his normal age. Deciding that the best course of action was to continue as if nothing had happened and let Steve return to the conversation at his own pace, Bucky cleared his throat. “Right so uh, just assemble the team for an informal meeting, maybe wait till after breakfast then just sort of… go for it?”

Natasha cocked her head. “It is a delicate topic, especially for you and Steve. I do not wish to cause either of you undue stress or harm by indelicately broaching the subject or doing so in a manner that puts pressure on either of you, especially since Steve seems to be a little upset today.”

“What if we did it after breakfast, and then Natasha and I talked to them first? That way you and Steve would have time to prepare yourselves, maybe have breakfast here and then come down when JARVIS calls you?” Phil put in, thinking aloud.

Bucky felt Steve’s breathing regulate against his neck and rubbed his back like he used to do when Steve would get asthma attacks. “Uh, that sounds… good. Steve? You with us, pal? Did you hear what Phil said?”

Steve shifted softly and held onto Bucky tighter, unable to stop the fear from sitting in his chest and making him uneasy. He let out a soft whimper, terrified of the words even as they left his mouth. “S-sounds good.”

Bucky switched to running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll spend the rest of today together and then the morning tomorrow, alright? Just you and me. Soon as Phil and Natasha leave, we’ll get you into that bath so you can relax.”

Phil nodded softly. “So Natasha and I will wrangle the others into the living area and go from there, then. Bucky, did you have anything you wanted us to talk about specifically since you’ll be up here with Steve?”

“Just… go easy on him, Phil. Make sure you set it up so they won’t make comments about him or… or say anything mean to him, please. Just promise me that you’ll stick to the facts and appeal to Bruce’s psychological side, get him to talk about stuff I bet he’s read on the matter, and make sure Tony’s on his side too. Clint I’m sure will try just because Natasha wants him to, because of that trust there, but… just don’t set us up to be the laughing stock of the tower, okay?” he felt Steve squirm against him and looked down. “Steve?” he asked softly, as Steve pulled back a little. Bucky cupped his face tenderly and kept eye contact with him. “Got somethin’ to say pal?”

Steve’s chin quivered at the tenderness displayed towards him, but he didn’t cry as he spoke quietly, just to Bucky. “Trust,” he whispered, and Bucky smiled proudly. “Builds trust and dependence on others. Helps me feel safe and wanted, like m’worth somethin’.”

“Thank you very much for speaking up, Steve,” he gushed, squeezing the nape of his neck affectionately as Steve immediately dove back to his hiding spot in Bucky’s neck, not liking having eyes on him. “Phil, Steve wants to reiterate the importance of trust and building a dependence on others, and the fact that it makes him feel like he’s worth something. He’d like to remind you that it helps him feel like he’s got a safe place where he’s always wanted.”

“Thank you, Steve,” Phil echoed. “I’m glad you mentioned that, because it’s an important part of why I think this could be useful for us. In order for us to be a cohesive unit and to be able to go out on missions together, we need a hundred percent reliance on not just who we’re used to working with, but also those we may not have a lot of experience with in the field. Instead of Clint going with Natasha, I sent him out with Bucky this time to try and build their connection to each other. But clearly Clint isn’t to that point yet, he still needs to do several of his missions with Natasha in order to keep him confident enough to go out with others. But I’m hoping that this exercise will be able to form a deeper bond with all of us, and that it will be something that can help us all work through some of the issues we have as far as childhood trauma goes.”

Natasha looked away from where she’d been watching Steve and Bucky interact. “I feel it’s important to approach from a clinical perspective, otherwise, if they are exposed to Steve first, and he is in headspace, it may provoke fear or an extreme reaction. Those that will not be as young as him might be put off and believe that their only option is to be as young as he is, and to completely depend on someone for everything from bathing to feeding.” She pointed out, and Phil hummed his agreement.

“True. And JARVIS can always chime in whenever he feels facts would be best to back up what we’re saying.”

_That is true, Phil. I can compile a helpful list for everyone if you would like me to, and send them the information tomorrow after the meeting._

“That’d be great,” Phil responded. “Though I’d like them to meet Steve when he’s in headspace, and to talk to Bucky with any questions they have, just to get their toes in the water. Nat, it’d help if you’d chime in now and again, because knowing you’ve been involved with all this might help them make their choice.”

She nodded, absently brushing her hair over her shoulder and beginning to braid it. “So, to recap: we speak the facts, JARVIS supplements, and Bucky and Steve come in last?”

Phil nodded, feeling a bit nervous himself as he thought about it. “Yeah. Bucky, does that sound good to you?”

Bucky was more concerned for Steve than anything else in the world at the moment, but he nodded distractedly, continuing to comb his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Yeah, sure.”

Phil gave a little smile to Natasha. “I think that’s our cue.” He stood up and she followed him quietly. He wanted Bucky and Steve to have plenty of time to relax and prepare themselves for the next day.

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispered once the two had left. “They’re gone. JARVIS is gonna run you a nice warm bath, and then you and I are getting straight into bed to watch something nice and soothing, okay?” He swayed from side to side a little as Steve gave a little sound of distress and held on tighter. “What pajamas do you want to wear?” he asked to distract.

Steve shifted against him and shrugged, trying to keep the nervous fear at bay and failing as he felt himself shift further towards being Little.

“Are you feeling more Big or Little?” Bucky tried another tack, smoothly shifting so he was standing and carrying Steve.

Steve just clung on tightly and let out a strangled sound of confusion.

“You haven’t been Little in a while. Is that ‘cause you’re worried about telling the others, or showing them?” Bucky could guess that all the talk had set Steve wavering in his mindset, especially since he hadn’t let himself go in a while. “Well,” he decided. “Whatever you feel like, I’m sure a nice bath will do you a world of good.” Bucky continued into the bathroom and set Steve on the sink. “You gotta let go,” he coaxed gently, and Steve protested with a whine.

“No.”

“If you want to get in that tub, you gotta let go. Neither of us can get in there with clothes on.”

“ _No_.” it was more insistent, and carrying all the earmarks of someone rapidly dropping into a younger mindset.

Bucky gave an indulgent smile. “Steve, c’mon. Let go a’me.” He gently tugged at Steve’s wrists, thankful they matched each other for strength, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to make Steve do anything he didn’t want to do.

“ _No!”_ The cry reverberated around the bathroom, over the sounds of the last few inches of water filling the tub, cutting through the relaxing atmosphere provided by the vanilla bubble bath JARVIS had added.

“ _Steve,_ ” Bucky added a bit of firmness and tugged on his arms until they were slightly looser than before. There was a soft sound, the barest hint of an intake of breath, and Steve went lax against him. Pulling back, Bucky could see the full eyes and quivering chin and his face softened. “Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t cry, honey-bear.” Steve’s face screwed up and the waterworks officially began, signifying the confusion he felt shifting from his adult mind to his child mind. “Aw, honey,” Bucky wrestled him out of his shirt. “Don’t you worry. You’ll be fixed up in no time. Nice warm bath, and then we’ll get you bundled up in something cozy and you won’t have to leave my side all day long.” He quickly got Steve out of the rest of his clothes and into the bathtub, the sounds of Steve’s sobs echoing around the room as he knelt down and washed his hair. Instead of attempting to console him with words, Bucky felt it would benefit Steve to just have a good cry. So while he got him cleaned up, he let him go, saying nothing to him for a while, until he was ready to get him dressed. Leaving Steve in the tub, he moved into the bedroom and a clean pair of clothes for him before coming back around the corner. “Here we go,” he murmured as he lifted Steve out and dried him off quickly. “Lie down for me, honey.” Bucky pointed to the clean towel he’d laid out and Steve obediently lay down, hiccupping quietly to himself as fat tears continued to run down his cheeks. Grabbing the clean pair of pajamas off the counter, Bucky set them to the right of Steve and swiftly got him into a clean diaper, taking a moment before dressing him to put a soothing hand on his stomach, rubbing circles against the warm skin. “Calm down, pal. I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re mine all day long, and all day tomorrow if you want to.” He knew his words didn’t mean too much if Steve had gone completely into his headspace, but he still felt he had to reassure him. Whatever Steve’s state, it still seemed to relax him, though it didn’t stop him reaching up with a pitiful look on his face. Bucky leaned down and kissed one of his hands. “Just a second. Gotta get these on you.” He managed to maneuver Steve’s clumsy limbs into the pair of fleece pajamas. They were Bucky’s favorites, pastel purple patterned with cartoon planets with little happy faces on them. Steve looked adorable in them. “Okay. Now I c’n pick ya up.” He carefully lifted Steve from the floor and gathered him close, carrying him into the bedroom. Crossing to Steve’s chest of drawers, he pulled out his blanket, taking it over to him and clipping a pacifier to his neckline. “Here.” Steve took the soft fabric eagerly, immediately rubbing it against his cheek, his sobs tapering off. “There,” Bucky said, satisfied as he changed into a fresh pair of pajamas and climbed in beside Steve, tucking the blankets around them. “Now,” he gathered him close. “Let’s see if we can’t find something to watch, hmm?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a Team meeting. Words are said. Steve's scared but then he isn't so much. Everyone proves to be much more adept at interacting with Stevie than Phil thought they would be (except Tony).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think? Translations at the end.

Phil rolled out of bed at his usual prompt six A.M., murmuring a quiet thanks to JARVIS as he noted the coffee had started brewing. Making himself a cup, he sat down and got some of his paperwork out of the way before turning to the real task at hand. “How were Steve and Bucky last night?” he asked the AI.

 _It was a rather unrestful night, I’m afraid._ JARVIS seemed saddened by the fact. _After you and Agent Romanoff left their apartment, Steve dropped into headspace rather suddenly. He was up and down all night with what I can only assume were anxiety based dreams that seemed to upset him. As a consequence, Bucky had little rest._

Phil hummed in sympathy and sipped at his coffee. “That isn’t good. I’d hoped Bucky could warm him up to the idea and things would turn out alright today.” He set the mug back down and looked up at the ceiling as if he could physically hold a conversation with JARVIS. “Do you think they’ll still be able to come down today?” He shifted and looked behind him as Natasha padded in holding Liho in her arms.

_Bucky should still be able to hold conversation, though Steve is still very young and would not do well away from him._

Phil sighed softly. “Well, thanks, JARVIS. Keep an eye on them and keep me updated.”

Natasha sat down beside him and gave a soft smile of greeting.

“Morning,” Phil said, reaching over to pet Liho’s ears. The cat chirped softly and flicked her tail in response, and he smiled. “I see Liho is happy today. What about you? How are you feeling today?”

Natasha seemed to think for a moment before speaking, head slightly tilted to the side as her fingers scratched Liho near the base of her tail. “I am… nervous.” She decided. “I do not wish to cause harm to James and Steve, but I am excited to share something new with my teammates and with Clint. I want them to have some of what Steve has. This… happiness, this… this weight that is removed from his shoulders each time I see him interact like that with James.” Liho squirmed and hopped over to Phil’s lap, purring as she headbutted him along his jaw. He let the cat scent him for a moment before petting her. “I…” Natasha continued. “I do not pretend that I do not want it as well, that I would not benefit from some form of this. We are all damaged. We would all benefit from learning to love one another.”

“That’s very insightful,” Phil spoke up, feeling the need to praise her for her comments. He’d been spending too much time with Stevie, it seemed. Nonetheless, the subtle variation in her body language told Phil she was pleased. “I only want what’s best for my team. I want a team that runs smoothly, has little to no conflict internally, and that I can rely on to work together on large scale operations without fear they’ll end up dead due to a conflict of interest with one another. But I also care for my team on a deeper level. I want to see them succeed in overcoming personal obstacles as well as professional ones. I want to see my team grow as people as well as team-mates and people sharing a living space. It’s a difficult thing to manage, but I have every confidence this will help with a lot of that.”

Natasha pulled the sleeves of her hoodie lower on her hands. “I think you should say that to them. Maybe it will help our cause.”

“You think?” he asked, handing Liho back over and going to pour her a mug of coffee.

“I do. That was very well expressed, Phil. Clint and I are probably the only ones here that will back you a hundred percent of the time on things. But that is only because we have known you the longest and you have proved yourself to us. You were there during tumultuous times for Clint as well as myself, so we know how much you come to care for those your work closely with. The others, they do not know. You must convince them of this. They are not comfortable with people in charge, and they do not feel as if anyone would value them or want to take the time to know them intimately and to wish the best for them. Bruce and Tony are not naturally trusting, and I still sometimes think that Tony bears you a grudge for how we three originally met.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” he decided, setting the cup down beside her and sitting back down again, mouth quirking. “Ah, yes. You know, I’m not exactly proud of that, but back then to me he was just a billionaire gone rogue. I didn’t know him then. I hadn’t seen who he truly was yet. But since then I’ve really seen Tony come into his own. He’s got such a selfless streak, even though he pretends to hide it.”

“Perhaps,” Natasha took a drink of her coffee and relished the taste. “Perhaps you ought to be honest with them. To say just that to Tony, and think of other things to say to Bruce and Clint that would help them trust you on this. I will agree to it, but only on the condition that I do not have to push myself to be young. I enjoy helping James to care for Stivi, and I do not wish to give that up.”

“Duly noted. Thank you, Natasha.”

“I think it would benefit to see how things pan out with the others. If they are younger, I cannot see myself being young as well. I would feel the need to always watch over them, even if you and James were present.”

“Fair enough. But I’m glad you’re already thinking about this in terms of being something real. Would you be agreeable to simply continue as you have, maybe help us with the others instead of actually taking part as a regressor?”

She seemed relieved. “Yes.” She murmured, as JARVIS interjected.

_Phil, the others are beginning to wake up. If you wish me to page a meeting, I can do so now, before anyone has had breakfast._

“That’s a good idea, JARVIS. Thank you. I’d like to get them aware of the meeting before we all have breakfast, then do the meeting after. That way Bucky has plenty of time to feed Steve and get him dressed.” He mused to the room at large, as Natasha stood and stretched.

“I will go and start breakfast. What are you hungry for?”

Phil stretched and groaned. “How about French toast and bacon?” He asked as he stood up to put their mugs in the sink.

“Sounds good to me,” she agreed as he followed her towards the elevator.

While Phil and Natasha got breakfast underway, Tony and Clint rolled out of bed. Awakened by JARVIS’ announcement, the two grumpy Avengers followed the smells wafting through the vents. Bruce had been up since before Phil, doing his meditation practice for the day, so when he entered the kitchen he was already dressed in something other than pajamas. That was more than could be said for the other four occupants. Bathrobe and slippers clad, Natasha and Phil manned the stove while Tony and Clint stood to one side, clutching at large cups of coffee as if they held the elixir of life.

* * *

 

Upstairs, Bucky attempted to soothe a fussy Steve, who seemed wound up almost as if he could still understand something was happening today that would affect him. “Baby,” he groaned. “You barely slept at all last night. Can you stop crying, please? It’s giving Daddy a headache, and he doesn’t even get headaches. Come on, Stevie-bear,” he wheedled, as Steve continued to sob even while Bucky walked circles around the living room. “Calm down, hmmm? What’s got you so upset? You know I’m not ever gonna leave you, right? Whatever happens, Daddy will be right there, holding you.” Steve clutched tighter at his shirt and let out a little groan. “I know you can’t be feeling very good after all those bad dreams and not much sleep,” Bucky empathized. “But all this crying won’t do you a lick of good, either. So come on,” he crooned right in Steve’s ear, rubbing his back as he felt Steve begin to relax against him. “There we go, that’s it. Just breathe normal and focus on me. There we go.” He kept up his encouragements for a few minutes until Steve’s sobs were nothing more than the occasional hiccup. Bucky sighed heavily. “Steve. My good boy. What am I gonna do with you?” he asked. A soft knock startled them both, and Bucky moved quickly to open the door. “Tasha.” He was surprised to see her before they’d had their meeting.

“I came to bring breakfast. French toast and bacon,” she murmured, moving past him and putting the breakfast tray on the table. “But also to check on Stivi,” she admitted, and he gave a knowing smile. “Stivi,” Natasha called softly. “How are you this morning, my love? JARVIS says you had bad dreams. I am very sorry to hear that,” she cupped his wet cheek with her hand and smiled at him softly. Steve reached out and gripped at her hand clumsily, a pitiful look on his face. “I know, darling.” Natasha whispered, and kissed his forehead. “I know. But very soon things will be over, and you will not feel so full of anxiety anymore.” She gently wriggled free of his grasp, throwing a slightly nervous look across her shoulder at Bucky as she left.

“Whatcha think?” he asked Steve. “You in the mood for some French toast, lil’ guy?” he jostled Steve lightly, and Steve gave an inadvertent smile. “There we go! There’s that smile.” Bucky carried him to the table and sat down, not wanting to really put Stevie in a separate seat at the moment. Instead, he held him close and fed him bites of toast and little bits of bacon, not caring to really have anything for himself until later in the day. Right now it was all about taking care of his little guy who needed him. “I love you,” Bucky murmured, overcome with a sudden surge of emotion as he leaned forward to press his forehead to Steve’s. Steve hummed in response and leaned down to nuzzle at his neck sleepily. “Oh, I see. So _now_ you wanna sleep, huh? Now, when it’s daylight outside and we gotta get down there soon, _now_ you choose to get tired.” He half teased. “Sorry, honey pie. You gotta stay up for me. You’re gonna go downstairs and say hi to some people with me later, so I need you to be awake.” He tickled Steve’s belly. “Come on,” he wheedled. “Gimme a big ‘ol smile, huh? Let Daddy see that smile!” Reluctantly, after a couple of minutes of Bucky’s tickling, Steve let out a giggle. Bucky beamed. “There he is! There’s the happy boy I remember!” he moved his hand delicately up Steve’s side, and Steve squirmed, tiny giggle turning to full on laughter as he batted his uncoordinated hands at Bucky’s forearm. Bucky laughed and went in for the kill—scratchy whiskered cheeks against Steve’s clean shaven neck. “What about that, huh? How’s that feel, ya little rascal?” Stevie let out a squeal, rewarding Bucky with a chorus of belly-laughs as he retreated to take in the sight, joying in taking in the sounds of his laughter. It was a rare thing to see Steve laugh like that. It was times like this that had him recovering from the visions of Steve’s face as he fell from that damn train. He knew that now Steve would be safe, cared for, maybe make up for time lost when he’d been under HYDRA’s thumb. He held Steve a little closer and stood up. “What say you and me go get dressed now, pal?” he asked, and Steve chewed on his fingers.

* * *

 

Once Phil and Natasha had gotten everyone fed, and the coffee had started to kick in making for less pinched faces and more functioning humans, he cleared his throat. “Alright. Everybody in the living area. Natasha and I have something to discuss with you all.” Natasha perched on the arm of his chair as they all sat down and made themselves comfortable. Phil cleared his throat, anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Natasha leaned over a little so their shoulders were touching, and he was grateful for the contact. Once everyone was settled, he spoke up. “Okay, so. The reason we wanted to talk to you guys in one group is because we wanted to have a discussion about stress management. Specifically, we have a method, a technique really, that has been proven to reduce stress and anxiety as well as promote trust and bonding among the participants.” Phil cut his eyes towards Natasha, who nodded her head the slightest. He was doing alright, then. Phil noticed that Bruce had perked up, seeming interested in what he had to say, though Tony and Clint seemed wary. The other two were distrustful of many ways therapists tried to get them to open up and deal with their trust issues. “Bruce, you may have heard of it,” he continued nonchalantly, trying his hardest to stay in his clinical meeting mode rather than let his desire to do right by Steve and Bucky get in the way. “It’s called age regression?”

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “I’ve read some papers on it, and I agree with the findings, there can be significant benefit to those participating in that type of coping tool as far as trauma or abuse goes. And from what I’ve seen of it it does seem to promote a deep bond between the participants.” He responded, tilting his head. “But… where are you going with this?”

“Hang on,” Clint interjected. “You still haven’t told us what it is, exactly. Yeah, Bruce seems to think it could be good, but you haven’t defined it yet.”

“Fair point,” Phil conceded, nodding in Clint’s direction. “I’ll explain the best I can, and then Bruce can fill in the gaps.” He shifted a little and licked his lips. “So, the way I best understand it is this: It isn’t about what you want, it’s about what you need. It’s a way to cope with a number of things from trauma to anxiety, while tapping into the brain’s natural impulses. Basically, you mentally revert to a certain age that’s younger sometimes by a lot than your natural age. It usually fluctuates a little bit until someone finds the right age range for them and then it solidifies. It’s all about finding the right age range to cope well and to heal, so that all those things that bother you when you’re an adult or cause you endless amounts of anxiety sort of fade away. Then you have time to mentally recover as well as someone there physically to watch over you and make sure you take healthy care of your body again until you’re ready or able to age back up and take over again.” He parroted Bucky’s earlier speech in his nervousness, gaze solidly on Tony and Clint’s reactions.

Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke up once more. “Would it help if I said that Bucky and Steve already do it? That they have for a while, and they’ve agreed to show you what it’s like?”

Bruce spoke up from his position to Tony’s left. “How long is a while?”

“At least since the war, most likely a little before, though I’m not too solid on the timeline. Any other questions, you can ask Bucky when he comes down. I’ve asked JARVIS to page them to come down so you guys can see what it’s like.”

“Does anyone else know about them?” Clint asked curiously, stretching his legs out so his feet were propped on Natasha’s thigh.

“I have known for a couple of months,” Natasha chimed in, and Clint’s face of surprise was one for the books. “Phil has known for longer than that. But besides the two of us, no.”

“Tony? You’re suspiciously quiet on the subject.” Phil wheedled.

“I’m just… taking it all in. Processing.”

Phil’s phone chimed. “JARVIS says they’ll be down here in a couple minutes and to please keep your voices down because Steve is actually in headspace right now.”

“Headspace?” Clint asked, frowning.

“Term for the mindset.” Bruce replied softly, eyes bright. Phil could tell he was already analyzing the situation from a clinical perspective, and was fascinated.

Everyone sat quietly until the elevator dinged, Bucky stepping out. He took a few cautious steps forward, Steve firmly held in his arms and hiding in his neck.

Natasha slid from her perch, Clint moving his legs as she did so. Steps light, she made her way over to the two newcomers and pay a hand on Steve’s bicep comfortingly. “Stivi? Is that you, darling one?” Natasha’s voice was soft, melodic in a way none of the others had heard before. Steve shifted against Bucky, a soft whine issuing from his throat.

“I tried to get him to let me keep him in his pajamas, but he didn’t want to. He also didn’t want to bring his blanket or anything,” Bucky murmured to her in a soft aside, looking a little put out. “I think he’s too worried, even though he’s fully in headspace at the moment. Doesn’t want anyone to think badly of him.”

Natasha turned her head to level an icy stare at the three men sitting on the other side of the room. “If anyone dares to treat him in such a manner, I will personally see to it that their next few weeks are spend in misery and pain.” She pronounced coldly, just loud enough for them to hear, but not loud enough to startle Stevie. Message delivered, she moved back to sit on the arm of Clint’s chair this time, draping an arm over his shoulders.

“Thanks for coming down,” Phil spoke, as Bucky sat down in the floor and adjusted Steve against him.

“No problem,” Bucky sounded tense, and Phil didn’t blame him. “Anybody got questions?” he asked the group at large.

“How old is Steve?” Bruce asked softly, openly curious.

“Usually about a year or younger.” Bucky replied, rubbing Steve’s back. “Hopefully, if he gets comfortable with all of you—he doesn’t meet many strangers—he’ll come out of his hiding spot and interact with you a little bit.”

“And how long have you been doing this?” Bruce again.

“Since before the war, not long after Steve’s Ma died and we moved in together.”

Natasha abandoned her post beside Clint and sat down beside Bucky. “Stivi? Do you want to come out of there and say hello to everyone?” She asked softly. Steve turned his head to peer up at her with sad eyes, and she gave a sympathetic hum. “I know, milaya. I realize it is hard, but they will not bite,” she glared up at each of them in turn. “ _Right?_ ” Noone in the room wanted to risk the Widow’s wrath if they dared turn the situation sour, so they nodded quickly.

Clint moved slowly down to sit beside Natasha, leaning over her to look curiously at Steve. “It’s alright,” he assured softly. “I just wanna say hi.” Clint watched as Steve relaxed the slightest bit against Bucky. “My name’s Clint, and my favorite color is purple,” he began rattling off a set of facts he’d often use when they encountered small children on ops and he needed to befriend them. “I like dogs, but my favorite animals are dragons, ‘cause they can fly and have shiny scales. I can’t hear by myself, so I have these fancy things to put in my ears that help me hear stuff.” He gave a goofy smile as he gestured to his aids, and Steve rewarded him with a little giggle.

Natasha was pleased to see her boys getting along, especially to note the little bit of pride that had crept into Clint’s eyes as Steve warmed up to him.

Soon after that, Bruce joined the little circle, sitting down across from where Bucky held Steve. His gentle mannerisms and soothing tone had Steve actually coming out of his shell. That just left one member of the team who hadn’t said hello.

“Tony?” Phil asked. “Something wrong, or do you want to go say hello too?” Bucky looked up, crooking a brow in question.

“Uh, no it’s… I’m not good with kids.” Tony replied, looking at Steve where he sat listening to Bruce tell a story. “They… don’t like me. I don’t know what to do with them.”

“Just do what Clint did,” Phil suggested. “Just make him comfortable around you by introducing yourself.”

Natasha nodded and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “He really is a very sweet and trusting child once you introduce yourself to him. But I suggest you get yourself over here and do it before I make you.”

Tony slid down from his chair and mumbled a quiet and sarcastic ‘yes ma’am’ as he settled into the floor.

“Steve?” Bruce asked, looking over at Tony. “I think there’s a new friend here who wants to introduce himself. Is that okay?”

Steve leaned back into Bucky (Bucky had finally gotten him to turn around to face everyone, thank God) and looked from Bruce to Natasha with wide eyes.

“This is Tony, milaya,” Natasha hummed, touching a palm to his cheek to soothe those big scared eyes. “Tony will not hurt you. He just wishes to say hello.”

Tony shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Um, uh… hi. My name is Tony, I like the color red, I drink more than I should, and I like to drive fast cars.”

Natasha leaned forward in a blur of red hair and Tony yelped. “What was that for?”

“ _That,_ ” She hissed. “Is for using inappropriate subject matter around the baby.”

Steve mewled softly, shrinking into Bucky.

“Now look what you’ve done! You have upset him!” Natasha’s tone carried a certain amount of fury beneath her moderation, Clint reaching out to place a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Okay, alright,” Phil stood and interjected himself. “Everybody calm down. Tony, apologize to Natasha, Natasha,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cool it.” Phil looked down at Bucky.

“He’ll be okay,” Bucky assured, rubbing Steve’s side. “Really. Give him a few minutes and he won’t remember it. He’s too young for that.”

Clint pulled a wad of string from his pocket of his robe and began to weave a cat’s cradle with the violently purple material, just inside Steve’s line of vision. In moments, the little one had leaned forward, watching Clint’s fingers work lithely through the motions, entranced.

“I like to do this when I’m anxious, or scared,” Clint told Steve across Natasha’s lap. “Doing something with my hands helps me to calm down.”

Phil was surprised to see Clint talk so openly about a coping mechanism—usually he kept this little habit to himself, more of a private thing. But he was glad to see Clint being so open with Stevie and getting along with him. It was Tony he was worried about.

After Clint managed to calm Steve down with his string tricks, Natasha spoke back up. “Stivi? Would you like to hear a song? Come here,” she said fondly, and Steve went to her lap willingly. Running a hand through his hair, Natasha smiled as he raised a pair of clumsy hands to pat at her face. Nuzzling at one of his hands, she laughed softly. “Yes, milaya, I am going to sing you a song! Would you like that? Hmm?” She cleared her throat and to everyone’s surprise and slight amusement, began to sing _The Itsy Bitsy Spider_ in Russian. Bruce and Clint made eye contact, grinning widely as she repeated the verse, and Bucky chuckled to himself softly. By the end of her song, everyone, even Tony, was smiling.

Steve had stilled at the sound of Natasha’s voice, captivated as he watched her lips move, eyes bright. When she finished, he looked around at the others, wondering why they weren’t doing anything to entertain him. Bucky laughed. “Pal, you can’t expect everyone to be at your beck and call like Tasha.”

“I dunno,” Clint put in. “He _is_ pretty cute.” He scooted farther out from Natasha, so he could better see Steve. “Hey, Steve!” once he’d gotten the baby’s attention, Clint began a game of peek-a-boo, which had Steve adorably confused. Every time Clint would hide behind his hands, Steve would frown and look up at Natasha uneasily, jolting with a start when Clint would “reappear”—something everyone found funny.

“Alright, that’s enough. You’ll over-stimulate him,” Bucky pronounced after a few rounds, taking Steve back from Natasha. Steve happily curled into Bucky’s chest, Bucky rubbing his back firmly. “I know you’re tired. It’s almost your nap-time.” Bucky murmured as Steve began to suck on a few of his fingers.

“How are his sleep patterns when he’s like this?” Bruce asked curiously. Steve’s motor skills had all the earmarks of the age Bucky had mentioned earlier, he was eager to see just what else did too. He really seemed to mentally… be that age, just like the case studies showed.

Bucky shrugged. “Sporadic, but sometimes he sleeps through the night. He has a lot of bad dreams that wake him up, or he’ll forget where he is or that I’m still here… stuff like that. But he usually gets about five hours give or take.”

Bruce nodded. “Hmm,” he mused to himself.

“So.” Phil spoke up. “What’s the general consensus? Remember, not everyone will be this young, this is just what Steve needs. What Clint needs or what Bruce needs may be significantly older than that.” He reminded, looking across at Tony, who was staring at Natasha as she plaited her hair.

“I’m good to try,” Clint spoke up.

“I’d love to see what it’s like from a participant point of view,” Bruce agreed. “Tony?”

Tony shrugged. “Maybe. Though, I’m not so sure reliving childhood would exactly benefit anyone in this room. Didn’t exactly have a happy family situation.”

“It doesn’t even have to be that,” Bruce clarified. “Lots of people just use it as an opportunity to not have to be in charge for a while, to relax and not be consumed by the worries they carry around as an adult. No-one’s pressuring you Tony, but it’d do us good as a team if we were all in this together.”

“We’re not High School Musical, Bruce,” Tony’s sass was unavoidable, but he seemed to be weighing his options after Bruce’s wheedling. “Fine.” He pronounced after a moment of silence. “I’ll give it a try.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Milaya-- Sweetie


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has breakfast. Everyone talks about regression. Tony struggles more than the others, but eventually he warms up to the idea, if only because he's afraid it would hurt Steve if he said his usual snarky comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the end!

Steve woke the next morning with a whorl of feelings running through his brain. Quietly, so as not to wake Bucky, he slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom. Closing the door, he slipped out of the shirt and pants he’d worn to sleep, unclipping the pacifier from the shirt so it didn’t get lost. JARVIS kicked on the shower for him, as his hands drifted to his waist and began the process of undoing the tabs on the diaper.

Glad to be rid of the wet material, he tossed it into the trashcan and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water trickle down his face as he tilted his head up. He always felt a little bit wistful when he was Big again, after being in headspace for a couple of days. He knew he was ready to be Big again, but he always missed the extra contact Bucky gave him whenever he was Little. Running his hands through his hair, he picked up the bar of soap from its shelf in the wall and began cleaning himself off, taking extra care to get the lotion residue from his groin. Previous experience told that if he didn’t get everything clean, he could still get a rash from it somehow, even when Bucky had used powder and lotion on him the night before. Luckily for him, super-soldier body meant that rashes never lasted very long. Still, however long it did last was uncomfortable, and he wanted to avoid it if at all possible.

Shimmying into his boxers and a clean pair of sweats, he bumped into Bucky as he exited the bathroom.

“Easy, pal,” Bucky murmured, reaching out a pair of sleep clumsy hands to steady him.

Steve blushed a little and ducked his head. “Sorry. Morning.”

“Morning.” Bucky replied, and tugged him in for a hug, which Steve gratefully returned. “Feeling better?” he asked, running a hand through Steve’s hair. Steve hummed, letting his head rest on Bucky’s shoulder. “Right, well. Go on and get some food. Somebody’s bound to have started cooking something downstairs.” He let go and gave Steve a gentle push. “I gotta get a shower.”

Steve stepped into the elevator as the bathroom door closed behind Bucky, JARVIS chiming a greeting.

_Good morning, Steve. I am glad to see you are feeling better today. Your vital signs seem to be more stable._

He hummed behind a yawn. “Thanks, JARVIS. Where are the others?”

_Clint and Natasha are in the kitchen. Bruce is in the lab with Sir. Phil is in his apartment._

The doors whooshed open and he stepped into the common floor, following his nose towards the scent of waffles. “Morning.” He greeted the two assassins huddled at the table.

Natasha gave him a wan smile in response, Clint waving as he sipped his coffee. “Good morning. How do you feel today?” she spoke.

Steve piled his plate with waffles and bacon, smothering the golden confections with syrup before heading to sit beside her. “Better.” He speared a bite of waffle and savored the flavor as he chewed. “How did yesterday go?” he asked Clint. “What did the others say?”

Clint set his mug down and rested a hand on Natasha’s calf as she placed her legs in his lap. “Surprisingly well, I thought. Nat?”

“I think it went well. Bruce was very receptive, though Tony was a bit less so.” She took a drink of her coffee.

“And you, Clint?” Steve spoke through a mouthful of bacon.

“Well firstly, I just want to make sure you fully understand just how cute you were yesterday,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Steve flushed and slowed down in his eating.

“No, really!” Clint insisted. “You were _adorable_! I played cat’s cradle with you, and you even let Natasha sing you a song. But then you got too tired to handle us anymore and started chewing on your fingers, which was still cute. And the way you cuddled up to Bucky like that. Just, honestly a thousand percent on the cute scale.” Steve’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and Clint laughed. “Easy. I’m just teasing. Mostly.” He asserted, with a wink in Natasha’s direction. She gave him a light look of reprimand, brows arching in amusement. “But no. Yeah, I mean… I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, I just have a couple questions about how it works.”

Bucky strolled in just as Clint finished speaking, damp hair twined up on top of his head in a bun, immediately heading to get himself a cup of coffee. “What’s this about questions?” he asked, glancing at the table to make sure Steve was actually eating.

“Clint wants to ask you a few questions about age regression,” Natasha put in, letting out an appreciative hum as Clint began to massage her socked feet.

“Okay,” Bucky perked up as he made himself a plate and went to sit across from Clint. “Well shoot. I’m all ears.”

Natasha knew Clint was using his actions to mask his nervousness about the topic at hand, but who was she to protest a good foot massage? “What did you want to ask, moy yastreb?” her voice was like honey, soothing, and Clint was grateful for her presence. They had talked a bit before he fell asleep the night before, and she had wondered whether he would talk to Bucky about his thoughts.

“Um,” he began uncertainly, gently working at a knot above Natasha’s big toe. “So how do you like, _decide_ which age you.. be?”

Bucky hummed around a mouthful of waffles, nudging Steve with his elbow as Steve cleaned his plate. “Go get another plateful. Bruce says you haven’t been eating enough lately,” he turned his attentions back to Clint as Steve dutifully got up to refill his plate. “Well, I don’t have much experience with anyone else besides Steve, but in my experience it’s mostly something that’s up to you. You just sort of… find a part of you that seems to fit well and go with that. You can always start by being older, if being as young as Steve is something that freaks you out.” Bucky used a part of his waffle to sop up some syrup.

Clint hummed. “So… I don’t have to be that little?”

“No,” Bucky agreed with an encouraging smile. “I know it’s weird, Clint, but Steve can tell you that it’s done nothing but good for him.”

Steve set his plate back down on the table and scooted his chair back up, nodding. “I mean, yeah, me personally? I’m a little embarrassed to say that I need to be that small, but… I do. I need to feel like I’m absolutely not in charge at all. But you’re different, Clint. You might want to be old enough to read or to play with Legos or something.” He shrugged. It wasn’t like he was an expert in ‘big kid’ toys or anything. Bucky still wouldn’t let him have anything plastic for fear of pieces snapping off and him swallowing them. He met Natasha’s gaze as he took a sip of juice, and her eyes twinkled with pride. Steve shifted a little and went back to his food, feeling shy all of the sudden under the attention.

Clint appeared to be turning over this information in his mind, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he absently worked his hands over Natasha’s feet.

“Do you have any other questions?” Bucky asked as he set down his fork.

“How does it work, exactly? I mean, how do you do it? I still don’t understand how you just… be that age. I mean, Steve was showing all the signs of being mentally one, but I’m not sure I can do that.” He stopped massaging Natasha’s feet and looked up at Bucky, brow furrowed.

“I…” Steve began, frowning. “Y’know, I’ve been doing it for so long, I’m not really sure. I think you just have to cultivate a certain amount of trust with whoever will be taking care of you and just…” he shrugged. “Let go. Enjoy being young enough that you don’t have to worry about bad guys or paperwork or boring adult stuff like what’s for dinner. All you have to focus on is what’s on TV or who’s there to help you get to sleep at night.”

“If you want, you can come up at some point and interact with Steve?” Bucky offered. “See if you can’t figure something out by watching the way we do things? We could watch a movie, or play with some of his toys or something.”

Clint looked down at his lap. “Sure. I guess. Can Tasha come too?” he asked, suddenly feeling too insecure to want to go down there without her.

“Of course. Steve’s already comfortable around her, anyway. She’s always welcome.” Bucky smiled at Natasha over his coffee. She smiled back.

“I… think I’d be more comfortable if she was there.” Clint decided, as Bruce emerged from the elevator covered in some sort of grease up to his elbows.

“Morning, all,” he seemed chipper as he moved to scrub at his arms in the sink.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

“Hey.”

Natasha simply nodded in his direction.

“Tony?” she asked, not having forgotten their friend’s reluctance the day before.

“In the lab still.” Bruce replied, using the towel from the oven handle to dry himself off. “He may come up later, but I told JARVIS to shut everything down in thirty minutes if he didn’t show any signs of leaving. He hasn’t had a decent meal in a couple days, barring breakfast, so I’m trying to get him to start eating regularly timed meals again.” He padded around the table and took the last available seat, digging in to his granola and yogurt.

“So,” Bucky spoke up. “Clint says he still feels good about everything. How about you? What are your opinions?”

Bruce swallowed his bite of yogurt and put his spoon back into the container. “I think it can be very beneficial when done correctly. I understand now, about all those times you and Steve would go away for a few hours, after missions, when you were stressed and somehow come back looking like you felt better than the rest of us. This is what you were doing, right?”

Bucky nodded.

“But I definitely think it could be good. If anyone would benefit from a little extra care in their lives, it’s us.” He chuckled darkly. “We’re all a bunch of emotionally repressed, touch starved people with a fear of rejection. So yeah, I think it could be good for us. I’d be willing to participate. Tony and I talked some last night in the lab… about this,” he picked up his spoon and took another few bites. “And we were thinking it’d be nice to be old enough to still do experiments and tinker around in the lab together, but without all the responsibility of being who we are to the rest of the world.”

Steve looked up from where he’d been sketching on his napkin with a pencil he’d produced from his pocket. “So, teenaged?” he asked curiously.

Bucky leaned over to peek at Steve’s sketch. It was a (remarkably lifelike for something done on a napkin) sketch of Natasha. Smiling, she was reaching out a hand, eyes sparkling. The caption read, “Do you want to hear a song?” Bucky wondered if it was intentional, or if Steve’s hand had moved on its own, carrying out a separate conversation while Big Steve puzzled over things with Bruce. Bucky gave a subtle gesture to Natasha, who looked across at the napkin, smiling at him softly.

“Around there, yeah,” Bruce replied, and Bucky forced himself to tune back into the conversation, in case he was needed.

Steve chewed absently at the end of his pencil, and Natasha leaned forward, confiscating the item. Leaning back in his chair, Steve sighed. “That seems… really swell.” He decided with a smile. “It’d be cool to have someone older around. Clint?” he piped up. “What about you? I know you said you maybe hadn’t decided yet, but… now I’m curious.”

“Been thinking since we talked earlier, and… I don’t think I’d be quite that big. Maybe somewhere in the 7-10 range,” he fiddled with the string that he’d pulled from his pocket, nervously tying and untying a few knots.

Bucky nodded softly. “Noone’s going to fault you for being young, Clint,” he said quietly. “Hell, Steve’s younger than that, remember? So if you think you’d need to be younger than Bruce and Tony, there’s no shame in that. You’d just have someone older than you around to hang out with.” He gave an encouraging smile, looking over his shoulder as Phil came striding into the kitchen.

“Morning.” Phil spoke, removing his earbuds and letting them dangle at his neck as he filled a plate. “How’s everyone doing today?” he asked as he leaned against the bar and tucked into his waffles.

“Better,” said Steve as he craned around to smile at Phil.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” Phil responded as he surveyed the rest of his team. “How’s everyone else doing? Making any progress in thinking about things?”

“Bruce and Clint have been talking,” Bucky spoke up. “They’re ready to give it a try, but we haven’t seen Tony yet, which worries me.”

“I told JARVIS to shut things down in the lab if Tony didn’t seem like he was coming up to eat,” Bruce interjected. “He should be up in about five minutes or so.”

Phil nodded around a mouthful of bacon. “Sounds good. We’re a team, and we need to talk about these things, even if one of us is uncomfortable with it.” He pronounced, finishing off the last of his waffles, watching as Clint kept playing with his string. They sat in companionable silence until Tony finally came traipsing in, immediately going for the coffee as he tossed a glare at Bruce.

“Did you turn my own AI against me?”

“Hey, I’m your friend, here, alright? You _have_ to eat something every once in a while, Tone. Your body will literally shut down if you don’t eat something. So yeah, I may have enlisted JARVIS’ help to make sure that happens today.” He stood up and went to throw away his yogurt trash.

After a moment of a staring contest, Tony caved as his stomach grumbled loudly, making himself a plate and stealing Bruce’s vacated chair. “Fine. But I’m taking your chair.” He said with finality as he sat down beside Clint.

Bruce flashed Phil a triumphant smile over his refilled coffee. Phil returned it with a little nod as he put his empty plate into the sink.

“I told Bucky what you and I talked about last night,” Bruce spoke up as he moved across to stand beside Tony.

“And?” Tony asked, licking a bit of syrup from his mouth.

“And everyone seems to be in agreement that they want to try it as soon as possible.” Bruce replied, and Clint nodded. “How do you feel about that?”

It was a moment before Tony replied, shrugging. “Yeah, sure, fine. I still don’t get why we’re doing this, but..” he eyed Steve, appearing to change his mind as Steve’s eyes lost a little of their glow. “I’ll try it. If Steve says it helps, then… it helps.”

Steve perked up once more. “Thanks, Tony. That really means a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moy yastreb-- My hawk


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nervous bunch that finally shows up to Phil's apartment for their first group gathering. But things go well, and Steve's cute like normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently dumb sleepy me forgot to put translations into these last couple updates, so I'll add them into the notes at the end. Thanks for pointing that out to me, guys!  
> \-- update: thanks to katieb18 for helping get the Gaelic translations clearer!

Tony and Bruce were the first to show up at Phil’s door, standing closer together than normal and dressed casually in sweats and tees like he’d asked. “Hi,” he greeted, pulling the door open wide so they could enter. Phil was also dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt—he figured if he told everyone to dress in comfortable clothes, it would lead to them being more relaxed. “Come on in. I’ve got water warm for tea, if you want. And I called ahead for a pizza order for later.” The two shuffled inside, looking nervous as they followed him into the kitchen.

“Tea, Bruce?”

Bruce rubbed his hands together nervously and nodded. “Green, please.”

“Tony?”

Tony shook his head. “I’m more of a coffee guy.”

Phil nodded politely and fixed two mugs of matcha: one for himself, one for Bruce, who smiled as he took his. “You two can go sit down in the living room. I thought we’d watch a movie as an ice breaker, once the others get here.” He perked up at a soft knock, shepherding the two into the living room. “Go on. I bet that’s Natasha.”

“Hello?” Clint spoke up as he leaned on Natasha, leg still stiff as it healed.

“Hey.” Phil met them at the door with a grin. “How’s that leg today?”

Clint made a face as Natasha helped him hobble towards the sofa. “Stiff. Hurts like hell. Got any painkillers?”

“I’ve got some Ibuprofin in the bathroom. Sit down and I’ll grab you some.”

Natasha helped Clint over to an armchair and let him drop down, grunting as his leg was jostled. Sinking down to lean against the chair, Natasha took in the sight of Tony and Bruce sitting together on the loveseat. Bruce sipped his tea calmly, but Tony seemed to be full of nervous energy, fingers tapping away at his thigh. A smile graced her face as they met gazes, and he seemed to relax a little.

“Here we go. Drink all this,” Phil ordered as he deposited a glass of water into Clint’s hand, tipping the two pills into his open palm.

Clint downed the water and the pills as Bucky entered the room, Steve trailing behind him, both still in their pajamas. “Hey,” Bucky greeted, folding himself onto the floor and leaning back against the sofa. Steve sat down beside him.

“Hey yourself,” Phil retorted as he returned to the living area and sat down on the sofa, surveying his team. “So I uh, I thought that we’d start off with a movie. I had JARVIS compile a list of movies that Steve seems to like, that would still be clean and appropriate for most ages.”

Steve shifted more towards Bucky, flushing a little as the attention was turned on him.

“Relax, pal,” Bucky murmured. “Everything’s gonna be fine, and I put your bag in Phil’s room on the way in, in case you need anything.” He squeezed Steve’s neck with his flesh hand.

“What movie?” Clint asked, perking up.

“Well, I thought I’d let Steve look at the list first, and pick one of his favorites?”

Steve let Bucky drape an arm around him, chewing on a finger nervously. “Aristocats.” He mumbled, sticking to one he often favored when he was Little.

“Good choice, pal.” Bucky spoke up, smiling softly. “Now you gotta promise to let me know if you need to change clothes, okay?” he murmured in Steve’s ear. He hadn’t bothered to put Steve into his clothes or a diaper since he was Big when they’d left their floor. He didn’t want to be responsible for any accidents if he could help it.

“Everybody got what they need before we start it up?” Phil asked. “Anybody want a blanket or anything? Get a little more cozy? No?” he settled in, and asked JARVIS to start the movie.

Halfway through, Steve tugged at Bucky’s sleeve. “You ready to change clothes, pal?” Bucky asked easily, scooping Steve up. “J, can you pause it? I gotta take Steve to go change clothes.” Stepping down the hall, Bucky shut the door to Phil’s room and made quick work of changing Steve out of his Big clothes. “How ya feelin’, pal? You more Big or Little?” Steve squirmed as Bucky tugged off his boxers, sucking on his hand. Bucky smiled. “Guess that answers that question.” He got Steve taped into a clean diaper and worked into his Dodgers sleeper, packing his clothes back into the diaper bag neatly as he fished out his blankie and paci. “Here we go. Now we can go finish up the movie!” he cooed, clipping the pacifier to Steve’s neckline and tapping his nose with a finger. Steve giggled and kicked his legs, reaching up towards Bucky. “Yeah, pal. I’ll hold you,” he said indulgently, putting Steve’s blanket over his shoulder as he picked him up and carried him back to the living room. “We’re back!” he spoke cheerily, folding himself back down on the floor and letting Steve hang onto him.

“Anybody else need anything while the movie’s paused?” Phil asked, eyeing Clint, who seemed like he wanted to say something. “Clint?” he asked gently. “Do you have something you need?”

Clint fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Um. C’n I have a blanket?” he asked, and Phil nodded.

“Sure. I’ll go get you one. Anybody else?”

Bruce nodded. “I’ll take one.”

“Okay.” Phil moved to the corner of the living room and plucked two blankets from the closet, handing one to Clint before tossing the other at Bruce, who caught it and unfolded it over his and Tony’s laps. “Do you want help, Clint?” Phil asked softly, as Clint fiddled with the folded cloth.

Natasha rose from her spot and unfolded the blanket over Clint in a swift motion, tucking it around his neck and sitting on the arm of his chair, looping her arm around his neck as the movie began playing again. By the time it had ended, she was running her hands through his hair, Clint pliant against her.

Phil was pleased that Clint had relaxed, looking across the room to find Tony dozing against Bruce’s shoulder. “Don’t wake him,” he mouthed, as Bruce went to move him. Bruce nodded quietly.

Steve leaned heavily against Bucky, reaching up to pat his cheek. “S’matter, lovebug?” Bucky murmured, kissing his forehead. Steve looked over at the bag of toys Bucky had placed by the door. “You wanna build something, honeypie?” Bucky drawled, and Steve nodded. “Alright,” he shifted, standing in a fluid motion and carrying Steve with him as he went to pluck the bag out of the corner. “Here we go,” he dumped the contents upside down and let them fall in a pile, setting Steve down. “Now. Let’s play something.”

Phil watched as Bucky set a few plush blocks on top of one another, a sleepy Clint looking on curiously. “You can play too, if you want Clint. I’m sure Stevie would love to have someone to play with him.”

Clint fidgeted with the blanket nervously, looking to Natasha, who gave him a soft smile. “Would you like me to go with you?” She asked, and he gave a self-conscious nod. “Alright.” Natasha moved the blanket from his lap. “Come on,” she encouraged gently, taking him by the hand and leading him down to the floor.

Steve blinked as Clint sat down in front of him, reaching out clumsily and handing him a block questioningly. “Thanks,” Clint mumbled, feeling awkward. After a moment he stacked it on top of the ones Bucky had done before. Steve gave him a delighted smile, looking over at Bucky, who smiled back.

“Havin’ fun, lovebug?” he asked, and Steve handed Clint one of his plush dinosaurs.

“It’s purple.” Clint said, delighted, as he looked over at Natasha.

Steve picked up a yellow one and fiddled with its soft fur absently, watching Clint turn the animal over in his hands. Clint looked down at the pile of toys, fishing through them before handing a small stuffed lion to Bucky and a little plush doll to Natasha.

“You want us to play?” Natasha asked softly, and he nodded.

“Steve’s too little,” Clint mumbled, blinking as he struggled against the awkwardness.

Meanwhile, Tony’s soft snores percolated through the relative silence, Bruce leaning lazily back against the sofa cushions, watching the proceedings through half lidded eyes.

Bucky and Natasha obliged, keeping careful tabs on Clint as they engaged him in an elaborate storyline involving their toys, Steve looking at them with big eyes as he chewed on his fingers. Bucky could tell that the more they engaged him, the more Clint was closer to slipping.

After several minutes of watching Clint become steadily more engrossed in playing with Bucky and Natasha, Phil stood up and made his way towards the other two, who were both sleeping now—Bruce dozing lightly and Tony in a dead sleep against him. “Time to wake up, boys.” He shook Bruce who in turn jostled Tony until he woke up.

Quiet Italian curses filtered through Tony’s lips as he was woken, glaring at offending hands as they retreated from his line of vision.

Phil sighed. “Watch your mouth, there’s little ears around.” He reminded, as Tony sat more upright, removing his head from Bruce’s shoulder. “You two wanna do something? We can play cards or something,” he offered. “Clint’s playing with Steve, so we can do something maybe more suited to older headspaces now, if you want?”

Bruce looked at Tony, who rubbed a hand down his face with a yawn. “Sure. What do you want to play?” He followed Phil’s lead and hoisted Tony to his feet, guiding him into the kitchen, where Phil tugged a pack of cards from the junk drawer.

“Spades?” he asked, sitting down at the table and gesturing for them to follow. “Nah, you gotta have teams for that one… um, how ‘bout…” he thought back to what his older nieces and nephews enjoyed playing. “How about Rummy? You guys know how to play?” He bridged the cards deftly and began dealing them out.

Bruce nodded slowly. “It’s been a while, since I last went down to the Y to hang out with the kids and do their health checks, but… I think I remember. Tony?”

Tony shook his head. “Never learned anything that wasn’t poker, Texas Hold ‘Em, or anything else used for gambling purposes.”

Phil made a mental note to stockpile a list of more child friendly games to teach Tony. He might not be young in headspace, but he’d probably appreciate learning some of the simpler games just because he was so used to complex ones. Plus, once they figured out how old Clint was, he might even be old enough to play a few games with them. It might not captivate Tony’s high intellect (or Bruce’s either), but it would be a new and hopefully fun endeavor for Tony.

“Well, it’s really pretty simple.”

Soon enough there was a good-natured ruckus going on in the kitchen with the card game, prompting the little gang in the living room to go see what was happening. Bucky hauled Steve into his arms, Clint trailing along behind Natasha feeling very vulnerable and looking slightly subdued. “What’s going on in here?”

“Playing Rummy.” Tony spoke up, not breaking concentration as he lay down a new card.

Bucky hummed and watched with interest. “Who’s winning?”

“Phil.” Bruce’s voice was laced with a slight venom as he picked his card.

“You’ve got the hang of it, it’s just a bad hand for you guys.” Phil’s voice was full of amusement as Tony gave a little irritated snarl.

“Did you have fun playing with Stevie, Clint?” Phil asked, momentarily folding his hand back up and laying it face down on the table so he could look over at him.

Clint attempted to hide behind Natasha, laying a hand on her arm nervously. “Yeah,” he whispered. “But he’s too little, so I mainly played with Tasha and Bucky.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you had fun.” He responded, glancing up at Bucky. Steve squirmed in his arms and he patted his back absently.

“I think it’s about time for Steve to take a nap,” Bucky decided. “Once I put him down, maybe you can deal us all into the game?”

Phil nodded. “Alright. You can put him on my bed if you want to.”

“Thanks.” Bucky smiled and carried Steve off towards the bedroom. “Okay, starshine,” he murmured quietly. “Let’s get you off to dream-land, hmm?” Steve hummed quietly and sucked at his pacifier. Bucky laid him down carefully on the bed and set some pillows around him so he didn’t roll before handing his blanket over to him. “I love you,” he crooned. “JARVIS is gonna play some sleepy-time music for you, honey-bear.” He kissed Steve’s forehead and Steve’s eyelids fluttered sleepily. “Get some good sleep.” Bucky ran his fingers through Steve’s hair soothingly. “I’ll be back soon.” The soft lullaby filtering through the speakers had his boy asleep in minutes, though Bucky couldn’t leave without standing there and staring at him for a moment. Just assessing the situation that he was safe and warm and sleeping comfortably. Tearing himself away from the cuteness, he shut the door quietly and made his way back to the kitchen, where Natasha had managed to wrangle Clint into her lap and was holding their hand of cards for him.

Bucky walked back in and took a seat next to Phil, picking up the cards he’d dealt for him. “So. Who goes first? Me?” Phil nodded. “Alright. Here we go. Everybody ready?” he asked, and Clint gave an excited smile.

Clint seemed to slip naturally into his headspace which Phil guessed was about six or so, where as Bruce and Tony didn’t truly seem to come into theirs until they’d spent some time loosening up by playing cards alone with Phil. He’d place Bruce at maybe eighteen or so, whereas Tony was definitely a little younger than that, but not too young. He’d have to do some digging to find out.

The game passed in another hour of friendly competition before the screaming started. Bucky immediately shot to his feet, sparing Phil a haunted and wide eyed look before he pelted off for the bedroom.

Steve had fallen to the floor, face a mask of tears and agony as he _howled_ , writhing against the rough carpet. Pacifier discarded and hanging from its clip, Steve let out a mass of tortured Gaelic, ending in a single recognizable name: Bucky.

The sight made Bucky want to throw up and kill someone at the same time. If he could have traveled back in time and murdered Zola he would have, if only for the pain he’d put Steve through by creating The Soldier. He skidded into the room, Steve’s pain like a knife straight to his heart as he knelt down beside him, blinking against his own wet eyes as he held Steve’s shoulders down.

“Steve!” he called out clearly. “Steve, dúisigh suas anois!” Bucky grunted as Steve became combative, a string of ‘no’s’ leaving his lips as he sobbed. “Is misè è, Stevie, Is misè Bucky! Come on, runt!” he kept up a string of words, alternating between English and Gaelic, until—wet blue eyes snapped open, chest heaving.

Steve quickly flipped himself up and launched himself desperately at Bucky, clinging on for all he was worth. “Shíl mé go raibh tú marbh…” he murmured brokenly, Bucky’s shoulder getting damp with tears as he held onto Steve. “Dúirt siad go raibh tú…”

The defeated tone left Bucky unable to restrain a few traitorous tears of his own as they slid out of his eyes, into Steve’s hair. “Ain’t dead, kid. Ní fhágfainn riamh tú. Riamh.” Bucky pronounced firmly, squeezing him tighter as Steve shook against him.

He loved it when Steve spoke Gaelic, it was like a window to their childhood, a reminder of Sarah Rogers and her saintly ways. Sometimes if he was dog tired, just after waking or before sleeping Steve would unknowingly slip into exclusively Gaelic around Bucky. It was endearing. Unfortunately, the reverse of that was to use it to ground and comfort one another after nightmares, which happened more than either of them cared for them to.

“ _God_ , Stevie,” Bucky’s voice was tremulous yet somehow still fervent as he spoke into Steve’s hair. “Thought you were dead once too, kid. Can’t imagine what it was like for you to walk around all those years thinkin’ I’d died and you couldn’t stop it.” Steve let out a little mewl of protest against him, and Bucky shifted to run a hand through his hair. “Point is, we’re together now. An’ nobody’s gonna separate us again. Right, pal?”

Steve let out a breathy sob against Bucky’s damp shirt, nodding. “Ceart.” He mumbled clumsily, not quite ready to abandon his security blanket and start speaking English again.

Picking up on Steve’s reluctance, Bucky rubbed his back and spoke up once more. “Ar mhaith leat dul ar ais sa chistin?”

Steve nodded and sniffled. Bucky pivoted around to grab the tissues off Phil’s bedside table. “Blow your nose, doll.” He murmured and held out the tissue. Obediently, Steve blew his nose and Bucky tossed the dirty tissue into the trashcan. “Want me to carry you?” he asked, and Steve nodded, embarrassed that he’d been pulled so harshly out of his headspace. Maybe he could fake it around the others, but… he just wanted the closeness. “Alright.” Bucky murmured, wiping his own eyes as he stood up and took Steve into his arms.

“Everything alright?” Phil asked, as everyone looked up as they returned.

“Just a bad dream,” Bucky murmured and Steve clung onto him tighter.

“That scared me.” Clint spoke up, and Phil nearly burst with pride to note that he sounded like he’d completely given in to headspace. He sounded very small, and Natasha had wrapped her arms around him.

“Sorry, pal,” Bucky murmured as he sat back down with Steve. “Steve’s fine. He just… has bad dreams a lot. But he’s alright.” He rubbed Steve’s back and Steve leaned against him heavily.

Bruce spoke up, eyeing at Steve nervously. “Want me to get him anything?”

“There’s a bottle of water in his bag.” Bucky spoke with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Bruce returned a moment later with the bottle, and Bucky tapped at Steve’s cheek with it. “Here, honey. Take some water, you’ll feel better.” Reluctantly, Steve turned his head and opened his mouth, letting Bucky give him some water. He was right. He did feel better. Some of the uncomfortable hotness in his face was going away. “There we go,” Bucky murmured, and Steve felt a few tears well up again not for sadness, but because of the sheer _care_ Bucky was giving him. “Ná caoin mo stór,” he murmured and gave Steve a little smile.

It took a while until activities resumed, mainly because everyone was waiting for Bucky to get Steve calmed down. Steve struggled against his headspace, feeling shaken still after dropping out of headspace so suddenly. He let Bucky sit him up and prop him against him, watching as the others played some card game and Bucky ran a hand through his hair. It felt nice.

To everyone’s surprise, Tony spoke up next. “How ya feelin’, Steve?” he asked, tossing out another card. Natasha helped Clint pick his next move and watched the interaction curiously.

Steve looked up at Bucky questioningly. He rubbed a hand against Steve’s cheek. “Tell him, honey. It’s okay.”

Steve chewed nervously on a finger. “M’okay.”

“That’s good.” Tony decided, as Clint won the hand and his face lit up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve, dúisigh suas anois!-- Steve, wake up, now!  
> Is misè è, Stevie, Is misè Bucky! -- It's me, Stevie, it's Bucky!  
> Shíl mé go raibh tú marbh-- I thought you were dead.  
> Dúirt siad go raibh tú-- They said you were.  
> Ní fhágfainn riamh tú. Riamh.-- I would never leave you. Never.  
> Ceart-- Right.  
> Ar mhaith leat dul ar ais sa chistin?-- Would you like to go back into the kitchen?  
> Ná caoin mo stór-- Don't cry, my treasure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might be a little longer than usual, but I really enjoyed writing it. The team explores their new dynamic, Phil gets a tension headache, Tony cuts his hand open (BLOOD WARNING), and Doctor Doom ruins everyone's nice family night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations included at the end of the chapter! This one has Gaelic, Italian, and Russian bc I'm a sucker for Avengers speaking their native languages and giving each other nicknames.  
> Also, some of you wanted to know about ages:  
> Clint- 5ish  
> Steve- 1 yr to sometimes less, maybe six months depending on whether or not anything traumatic has happened.  
> Bruce- 18  
> Tony- 16-17 range. Idolizes Bruce. Together they're full of mischief and tend to like to make things go bang or catch on fire in the lab. Despite Bruce being a responsible boy. Tony can talk him around. Tony can convince anyone to do anything, especially older brothers that have soft spots for him.

The next few weeks brought more and more surprises as everyone learned to balance their new dynamic with field missions and team outings. Bruce and Tony attended a benefits dinner and gala for the local museum of science and industry, Steve and Bucky went to lay flowers at the gravesites of some of the Howling Commandos, and Clint and Natasha worked relentlessly on getting his leg back to working order again. Phil was proud of how far his team had come, but some days… some days it was all too much. Like currently, for instance.

Phil ducked to the left as another Nerf bullet whizzed past his left ear, going right back to his paperwork. “No bullets in the kitchen,” he reminded in a monotone, as Tony came tumbling through the door.

“Sorry, Pops,” he grinned an ‘I’m so innocent’ grin, and Phil rolled his eyes.

“Just try not to break anything.” Was Phil’s reply, as Tony went pelting off and dived behind the sofa.

“It’s time for payback, Banner!” he hollered, letting loose a volley of the soft suction cup tipped objects from around the corner of the sofa.

Bruce returned fire from behind the turned over coffee table, the two cackling maliciously at their game as Phil continued to wade through paperwork on his new junior agents. _God,_ he wished he could play with them. Anything was better than this.

The elevator whooshed open and Natasha entered the kitchen, Clint at her heels, gait still slightly stiff. “Ah, c’mon!” he protested. “Why do we gotta go down and work out, and they get to have fun?” he complained.

“ _Because_ ,” Phil found himself praying for strength. “You two have to complete a new physical exam next week to update your files, since you’re agents. They’re not, therefore, they’re exempt.” He rubbed his temples, where a headache was rapidly blossoming. A steaming cup of coffee appeared at his elbow and he gave a grateful smile to Natasha.

“Come, Clint.” She ordered. “Let’s go and clean up. Perhaps when we are clean, you and I will do something fun.”

Clint didn’t seem to like this idea as he followed her back to their floor. “But… I wanna do that!”

“You are too young to play with the older boys.” Natasha said simply, her tone brooking no argument. Clint ducked his head and let her herd him into the tub, sighing contentedly as he felt her fingers in his hair.

Phil’s coffee kicked in and he felt his headache lessen, but not before there was a yelp, a crash, and a muttered curse from the other room. “What happened?” he yelled, dreading peeking his head around the corner.

“Uh… you know that fern that was on the table? It’s not there anymore.” Bruce called back. “And also Tony’s bleeding.”

“ _Bleeding_?” Phil shot up and ran into the living room to find Tony laid out in the shattered remains of one of Natasha’s ferns, dirt and water on the floor and a shard of pottery embedded in Tony’s palm. “What the _hell_ did I tell you two idiots?” He knelt down and scowled at Tony, grabbing his wrist. “Hold still.” Phil shimmied out of his tee and set it next to him on the floor before grabbing the shard between a thumb and forefinger. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, removing the shard as Tony hissed. “Hold this there.” He ordered, pressing the shirt to Tony’s hand. “You. Take him in the bathroom and clean him up. I’ll be in there in a second to do the stitches.” Phil’s voice was curt and seething with an underlying rage as he moved to grab the broom from the coat closet and sweep the shards into the trashcan. Picking up the plant, he dropped it into the can as well before leaning the broom against the wall and striding swiftly across the room to the bathroom.

Bruce had made quick work of sanitizing the cut and getting it cleaned out, Tony sitting on the edge of the tub and trying not to sniffle as it stung and burned. “Move back.” Phil ordered, still shirtless as he shouldered his way into the bathroom and gripped Tony’s hand firmly in his own. “You get the needle threaded?”

Bruce nodded, not really wanting to speak because he knew Phil was still mad at them. Wordlessly, he handed it over.

“Stay still.” Phil told Tony, who nodded and kept staring forward at the wall, muscles in his forearm tense. Stitches neat and uniform from years of experience, Phil quickly got Tony set to rights, wrapping his hand in gauze and getting it set in place. “Now try not to use that hand too much. No lab work for a few days, Tony—for that matter, you either Bruce! I told you two not to break anything with your horseplay, and you did anyway! Not to mention, Tony got himself hurt!” he packed away the first aid kit in irritation. “So no, neither of you can do anything for a few days, until I say so. Instead, you wait for a mission or you watch the younger kids. And I want you two to go to bed when Clint does.”

The sounds of protestation were quickly cut off by Phil’s perfected Agent glare. He’d floored weaker men with it.

Cowed, Bruce and Tony let themselves be shepherded out of the bathroom as Phil traipsed off to find a clean shirt, old one going in the trash with the shattered planter and the poor victimized fern.

“What happened to you two?” Bucky strolled lazily into the room with Steve on his hip.

“We got in trouble because of a Nerf war. Tony cut his hand open and had to get stitches.” Bruce replied, righting the coffee table while Tony sat moodily on the sofa and clutched his hand.

Bucky sighed. “Guys. I thought we’d told you a hundred times not to do that unless you were in the gym?” He handed Steve off to Bruce. “Hold him for a minute. I gotta take a leak and he really doesn’t want to be left alone today.”

Steve whined as Bucky left the room, Bruce rubbing his back lightly. “Hey. Don’t cry, bud. He’s going to come right back. Maybe you and me and Tony can watch a movie?”

Tony perked up. _That_ was more fun than sitting around with a throbbing hand and moping. “What movie?”

Bruce walked Steve around the room to soothe him. “Uh… _Finding Nemo_?”

“Nah. Clint and I already watched that one the other night when he couldn’t sleep.”

“How about… _Cars_?”

“What’s the one with the mouse? That Natasha likes?”

“Rat. It’s _literally_ called _Ratatouille_. Because he’s a _rat._ ”

“Yeah, fine whatever. It’s cute. Let’s watch that one.” Tony settled more comfortably as Phil came back into the room.

“Hey, Stevie. Have a nice nap?” he crooned at the baby, whose eyes sparkled back. “Right. You three stay here. Do whatever Bucky says, don’t make trouble and let me finish my paperwork. Food will be here in about an hour.” He disappeared back into his lair, Bucky emerging at the same time from the bathroom.

“Hey, mo dhuine beag,” Bucky cooed with a smile, hair freshly twined up on top of his head and out of reach of grabby baby hands as he took Steve from Bruce. Bucky kissed Steve’s hair, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo as he sat down between Bruce and Tony on the couch. “So, what are we watching, ragazzi?” he let a teasing lilt creep into his voice as he tweaked Tony’s ear playfully.

Tony scowled. “Fottiti.” He murmured, and Bucky’s gaze turned stony.

“Hey, you watch your mouth. You’re in enough trouble from Phil already, you wanna add to it by having to stand over there in that corner after I soap your mouth?”

Tony tucked his chin and stared down at his wounded hand. “No.” It came out slightly sullen.

“Then behave yourself.” Bucky warned, turning to Bruce. “So, what are we watching?”

“Tony suggested we watch _Ratatouille_ before dinner.” He responded, as Natasha padded in, long hair damp around her face as she herded a sleepy looking Clint into the room.

“Just in time for the movie!” Bucky’s voice was warm as Clint curled himself onto the other sofa, Nemo blanket wrapped safely around his shoulders.

Natasha scrutinized the scene, eyeing Tony’s hand. “What happened to your hand?” she asked gently.

“Fell.” He mumbled to his lap, and she ran a hand through her hair.

“Be more careful next time, miele. You know that Phil doesn’t want anyone running in the house.” Natasha leaned over to kiss Stevie’s hair, then looked over Bruce. “You are not hurt?”

Bruce shook his head. “No. But I think we’re banned from Nerf wars for a while. Plus we can’t go anywhere and we gotta go to bed whenever Clint does for however long Pops decides.” He pouted slightly as JARVIS cued up the movie.

“A wise decision.” Natasha made eye contact with Bucky, who nodded.

“Mama,” it was small, from the other sofa, and both Natasha and Bucky felt their hearts soar at the plaintive term coming from Clint’s lips. It was the first time he had called her that.

“I am coming, moy sladkiy mal'chik,” she assured with a smile, nestling herself beside him on the sofa. Clint snuggled up to her contentedly and the movie began.

Dinner was a disaster to be expected, and Phil was frustrated they’d all decided on pizza earlier in the day. Clint had already gotten his bath, and Natasha had her hands full making sure he didn’t cover himself or anyone else in sauce. Steve was hopeless as Bucky tried to get him to eat and he kept turning his head away, refusing and fussing. Tony and Bruce flicked olives back and forth at one another until Tony’s hand started to hurt. He opened his mouth to complain, and Phil shut him down.

“Shouldn’t have played rough. Go take some Ibuprofin and shut your mouth.”

Bucky sighed in irritation and stood up. “Take him,” he told Natasha, who stood and accepted Steve. “I gotta go make him a bottle. Bruce, is the protein powder you made him still on the top shelf?”

Bruce nodded around a bite of pizza. “Top shelf, left side.”

Clint noticed Natasha was otherwise occupied and let out a little whine. She rocked from side to side as Steve’s crying increased to irritated wails, Clint reaching up a hand to tug at her pants with a pout on his face. Phil sighed and stood up, rounding the table. “Come on, malen'kiy yastreb. Come sit by me. Bruce, swap seats with him.” Bruce stood and swapped out their plates, sitting down beside Natasha as she swayed from side to side with Steve. Phil bundled Clint into the chair beside him and put an arm around him, rubbing softly. “It’s alright,” he murmured, as Clint turned towards him and lay his head on his shoulder. “I think someone needs an early bedtime tonight.” Clint whined, frustrated tears appearing in his eyes as he pressed his forehead to Phil’s shoulder.

“Nyet,” he whined. “Nyet, ya ne khochu,” Clint protested, chin quivering as Phil abandoned his pizza and wrapped his arms around him.

“But you need it, sweet boy.” Phil murmured, and kissed the side of his head as Bucky returned with Steve’s bottle.

Smoothly taking the baby from Natasha, Bucky sat back down and positioned Stevie in his lap. “Come on, buachaill leanbh, this’ll make your tummy hurt less.” Steve fought, turning his head and sobbing pitifully as Bucky chased his mouth around with the bottle. Finally, he relented, whimpering around the nipple as the sweet vanilla liquid poured into his mouth. “There we go, lovebug,” Bucky used his free hand to rub soothing circles on Steve’s onesie-clad stomach.

Tony came back into the room not long after, hand clutched to his chest near the glow of the arc reactor. “Still hurts,” he grumbled as he sat down again and polished off the last of his food.

“You just took some medicine,” Natasha told him firmly. “Stop whining about it and let the pills do their work.”

Tony pouted.

“Finish off that pizza, Bruce.” Phil spoke up. “Then I want you two to get upstairs and get ready for bed. Shower if you haven’t. I’m getting ready to put Clint to bed.”

Bruce finished off his food and stood up, grabbing his and Tony’s paper plates and napkins and tossing them in the trashcan. “C’mon, Tone.”

Silence reigned as the two teenagers left the room, Bucky using a napkin to wipe Steve’s chin as he realized that he was actually hungry and began to suckle more greedily. “You’ll get a tummy ache,” Bucky murmured and pulled back a little, Steve whimpering. “Just breathe a minute, sweet boy.”

Clint’s tears subsided to little whimpers and Phil rubbed his back. “Alright, buddy. Let’s get you upstairs and dressed for bed, hmm? I’ll read you a story after I look in on Bruce and Tony.” He promised, and pushed until Clint stood up. “Say goodnight.”

Clint moved around the table and gave Natasha a hug. “Night, Mama.”

“Goodnight, sweet boy.” Natasha hummed, petting his cheek fondly.

Clint moved around and stared at Steve as he drank his bottle. “Night, Stevie,” he mumbled sweetly, kissing the baby on the forehead before giving Bucky a one armed hug. “Night…” he stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. “Mm… Night Uncle Bucky.”

“Night kiddo,” Bucky spoke fondly, raising Steve to his shoulder to burp him.

“Come on, Clint.” Phil took his hand and they headed into the elevator together.

Once they’d become more comfortable with their new dynamic, Tony had offered to pay to outfit what they now called the ‘family floor.’ It was basically just a remodeled floor of bedrooms and bathrooms, each person with their own room. They’d been allowed to decorate their rooms however they wanted, and Bruce and Tony had agreed to share a room. Bucky’d decorated a nursery for Stevie, and gotten him all the furniture he’d ever wanted to buy for his boy: crib, changing table, rocking chair. Phil and Natasha both had helped Clint decide how to decorate his room: dinosaurs of course. The kids had had great fun picking out bedspreads and such, and decorating their bathroom. Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Steve shared the pirate themed bathroom, and the adults shared the other one.

By the time he’d gotten Clint to the family floor, Bruce was in the shower and Tony was loitering outside the door, towel on his shoulder and pajamas under his arm. “Hey there, little bird,” he greeted as Phil came into view, Clint in tow. “Bruce tells me you’re a little upset?” Clint stopped and nodded, stepping forward before hugging Tony around the middle. Tony smiled and Phil watched, entranced as he hugged Clint back. “Lemme grab your toothbrush and toothpaste for you.” Tony spoke again, as Clint pulled away. “Then you c’n go in the other bathroom and get ready for bed.” Clint gave him a sleepy smile, steam puffing out as Tony slipped inside and grabbed the needed items. “Here we go, squirt. Now you go on and get ready for bed.”

Clint took his things and moved back to Phil, who gave Tony an approving nod as he took Clint’s hand again. Phil made a mental note to speak to Tony about it after he’d showered. “Right, c’mon Clint. Go brush your teeth and I’ll get your pajamas. Which ones do you want?” he asked.

“Iron Man?” he asked, and Phil smiled.

“Alright, buddy. I’ll get ‘em. Go on.” Clint scampered off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and Phil moved across the hall to Clint’s room, rummaging through his pajamas until he found them. Tony’d gotten the littler boys Iron Man pajamas as a joke, but it turned out when he was nice, Clint often wore them less than ironically. He crossed the hall just in time to see Bruce coming out of the bathroom in his chemistry themed pajamas. “Go and get in bed. I’ll be in when Tony’s done.” Bruce nodded and bundled up his dirty clothes, tossing them in the hamper just inside the bedroom door.

“Clint?” Phil stuck his head into the bathroom just in time to see Clint spitting out his toothpaste. “Good boy. Now rinse out and wash your hands. Then you can change clothes.”

“M’kay.” Clint grabbed one of the disposable cups from by the sink and rinsed his mouth, spitting into the sink. Dropping his toothbrush, he hurried to strip himself all the way down, kicking the dirty clothes out of his way.

Phil laughed and shook his head fondly. “Alright, hang on.” He put the folded clothes on the sink and shook them out, handing over the shirt. “Arms.” Clint obediently stuck his arms up and Phil helped him into the shirt. “And legs.” Clint stepped into the pants and Phil chucked his chin softly. “Alright, buddy. You go on and pick out a story. I need to talk to the boys.”

“Did you brush your teeth?” Phil stuck his head into the boys’ room. Bruce nodded. “Tony?”

“Still in the bathroom.”

Phil nodded. “Stay. I’ll go and check on him.” He strode quickly across the hallway, knocking at the door. “Tony?”

“Yeah, hang on!” the sounds of spitting could be heard through the door, before it clicked unlocked.

“I was just checking to make sure you’d brushed your teeth.” Phil admitted, as Tony wiped his mouth off on the hand towel.

“Well, I think you got your answer.” Tony said, seeming over his earlier fit of temper as he followed Phil across with his bundle of dirty clothes. He leaned over and dumped them into the hamper on top of Bruce’s.

“Right, well… I don’t think we need to talk anymore about what happened earlier. So… I’ll just say that you’re free to join me in Clint’s room for his story if you want.” He couldn’t bring himself to chide them any more.

Bruce and Tony broke into identical smiles.

“Ah, he’s lost his edge,” Tony teased.

“He’s gone soft,” Bruce heckled.

Phil gave them The Stare once more, and they shut up.

“Yeah, alright.” Tony decided, and Bruce stood as he did. “C’mon, Brucie,” he slung an arm over Bruce’s shoulders as they walked ahead of Phil down the hall.

When Bucky and Natasha finally got the kitchen cleaned up, Steve was dozing where he sat. Tossing the last of the trash in the can, Bucky picked him back up. “C’mon, you little rascal. Let’s get you ready for bed.” Steve was lax against him, sucking at his pacifier lazily as Bucky gathered up his diaper bag and Natasha turned off all the lights. “Don’t you worry, pal. I’m gonna get you nice and cozy.” He murmured, and she gave a doting smile as she smoothed the hair from Steve’s forehead. She went ahead of him as the doors opened on the family floor, taking the bag from his arm as she went into the nursery. The soft yellow walls practically glowed as Natasha switched on the lights, setting the bag down to the left of the dresser as Bucky made a beeline for the changing table and strapped Steve down so he didn’t roll off. “You wanna go check on Clint?” he asked softly, opening the drawer in the bottom of the table to get out the changing supplies.

“I think that would be a good idea.” She agreed, giving Steve a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, milaya. I wish you the sweetest of dreams tonight.” Natasha murmured to him, and Steve gave her a toothy grin.

Bucky watched her disappear down the hallway before turning and getting a clean onesie from the dresser. “There we go, pal. You c’n wear your stars and moons onesie to sleep in tonight, hmm? How’s that sound?” he undid the strap around Steve’s middle and deftly stripped him of the dirty teddy bear onesie, dumping it into the hamper beside the changing table. Steve squirmed and whined softly and Bucky leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I know you’re sleepy, honey. Daddy knows. But he’s gonna get you cleaned up, and then into some clean jammies, and then you can go to sleep.” Bucky assured, beginning the process of changing Stevie’s diaper. “Got a little bit of a rash there, pal,” he frowned, gently running his fingers across the reddened area of Steve’s thigh. Steve whimpered. “I know.” Bucky told him, getting the ointment and spreading it over the hurting area. “This’ll make you feel so much better.” He wondered if that was why Stevie had been crying at dinner. Bucky finished up changing him and wrangled his pliant limbs into his clean onesie. “Now,” he crooned. “Into bed with you, ya little scamp.” He lay Steve in his crib and tucked him under the blanket, turning on his night light. Picking up the pacifier from the bedside table, he gave it to Steve and kissed his head. “Sleep tight, pal.”

“Fingers crossed for no bad dreams,” he mumbled to himself as he shut the door behind him. Wandering down the hallway, he found the others clustered around Clint’s bed, where Phil sat with Clint, reading him a story. Cracking a soft smile, he leaned against the doorframe and watched as Bruce and Tony chuckled from their position on the floor. He didn’t recognize the story, but everyone else seemed to be enjoying it, so he was happy. Once Phil had finished up reading, he shut the book and clapped his hands.

“Alright, you two. Bed. Say goodnight, ‘cause Clint’s about to fall asleep right now.”

“M’not,” a sleepy Clint protested, and everyone laughed.

“Yes you are,” Bruce insisted, leaning over Natasha to hug Clint goodnight.

“So are too,” Tony agreed, hugging Clint and kissing his head. “G’night, squirt. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Mm… Ni’ Tony, Brucie.” Clint muttered, already nodding off as Phil and Natasha tucked him into bed. Natasha handed him his stuffed monkey and flipped on the closet light, half closing the door so he wouldn’t be in the dark.

The three adults filed out of the room quietly, Bruce and Tony following their given orders and heading right for their own beds despite the early hour.

“No reading, no devices.” Phil caught them at the door, barring their way. “JARVIS is on full alert. If anybody tries anything, he’ll shut it off or alert one of us. Got it?”

They nodded, and he moved his arm, letting them pass through to their beds.

“Movie in my room, or?” Phil faced Bucky and Natasha, who both looked exhausted.

“Bed.” They chorused, each one peeling off for a shower and early bedtime. It was welcomed in case someone woke up in the wee hours of the morning crying… which sadly with their bunch happened more often than anyone wanted.

Phil skipped his night shower in favor of a morning one, heading right to his bed and face planting into the pillows. Oh, but sleep was sweet.

* * *

 

Natasha groaned into her pillow, turning over and groping for her phone, the device falling to the floor. Cursing, she rolled to her back and growled. “JARVIS, what is it?”

_I believe Assistant Director Hill is on the line. The Avengers are needed as soon as possible, and she is apologetic for waking you all. There is a situation with Doctor Doom and his robots._

Natasha cursed and stumbled out of the room, sticking her head into Phil’s room. “Phil.”

“JARVIS told me.” Came the response, exhausted from the darkness. “Get Bucky. I’ll scramble the others.” Phil gave another groan and headed for Tony and Bruce, rapping at the door. “Guys! Get up. Hill needs us. Doombots again.”

A smattered series of thumps and thuds could be heard before Tony flipped on the light, cursing. Blinking like a deer in the headlights, he stared at Phil, aghast. “B-but… n-none of us are…” he gestured vaguely and Bruce nodded.

“What about Clint? And Steve?” Bruce’s face was pinched.

“I don’t know. Hopefully we can get them to cooperate for a couple hours.” He said finally. “Get dressed. Tony, call up a suit. Bruce, get a protein bar and have some water. I’m going to check on Clint.”

Clint was protesting viciously, looking scared as Natasha chased him around the room.

“Clint!” he called.

“No!” Clint stopped in his tracks and stared with wide eyes. “They’re scary and they hurt people! I don’t wanna go!”

Phil pinched at his nose. “Clint, if you go I’ll take you to the aquarium, just you and me, special.”

“Promise?” It was tiny.

“Yes, of course, honey. Now can you be Big for just a few hours for me? Maybe go suit up with Tasha?”

“Kay.” Clint still looked scared stiff as he let Natasha lead him down to the elevator.

That done, Phil turned on his heel, meeting Tony and Bruce as they hurried past in their pajamas to catch the elevator with the other two.

Four down…

“What’s the situation here?”

Bucky looked up, tense. “He’s not wanting to age up, but we’re getting there.” Bucky tapped Steve’s cheek. “Come on, pal. Need that big head of yours to come and save some people with me.”

Phil knelt down beside them. “Steve. Come on. Please. We need Cap right now, or people will die.”

Steve leaned into Bucky’s hands on his cheeks, swaying slightly as he blinked hard. “Mngh,” he mumbled, and Bucky nodded at Phil.

“He’s back. Go get yourself changed and into the jet. I’ll handle us.” He hauled Steve to his feet, practically carrying him to the elevator as Steve fought against the fog in his brain.

“Doombots.” He murmured, coming to as the elevator descended to their level and Bucky dragged him out quickly, stripping him of his clothing and helping him into his suit.

“Yeah. Several.” He responded as he wriggled into his own tact suit in record time. “We gotta go. Come on.” He shoved Steve’s cowl and gloves into his hands, grabbing their weapons bags and Steve’s shield. “Get the comms.”

Steve did as ordered, picking up the earpieces on the way out of the room. Running down the hall, they loaded onto the jet with the others, everyone in various states of getting ready as Phil lifted off.

Clint was shimmying into his new quiver, Natasha was lacing up her boots, and Bruce was attempting to shove down a protein bar to prepare for Hulk’s appearance. It was bedlam. Bucky and Steve sat down heavily on one of the benches, and Bucky began to help Steve into his cowl, sticking his comm unit in his ear. “Put these on,” he ordered, handing him the gloves as he put in his own comm. “Stand up.” He wrested Steve to his feet, letting the shield attach to the magnet on his back. “There. Battle ready, Captain.” He patted Steve’s chest.

Steve shifted uneasily.

“Don’t worry. It’ll come to you as needed. Just… I know you’re not all the way there right now, but you gotta at least fake it. I got your six, but these people are expecting Captain America to come in and kick ass.”

“He will.” Steve didn’t at all sound certain that Cap would be making an appearance, despite being dressed in full Cap garb.

Tony walked over, in full Iron Man armor, and raised his face-plate. “How we doing over here?”

Steve gave him a grimace. “Not… so good. I…” his voice trembled a little, and Tony put a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy. We’ll be fine. Done this a hundred times. Pace yourself, don’t forget to ask for help. If you need me, let me know and I’ll come help you.”

That seemed to shore Steve up a little. He squared his shoulders and nodded. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony gave a silent nod, plate coming back down as Phil’s voice came over the speakers. “Get ready for landing, these guys are out to do some major damage, and they do not look happy.”

Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Showtime, pal. Just like we used to in France, remember?”

Steve gave him a grim look. “I remember, Buck.” And he backflipped out of the jet.

Showoff. Bucky quickly went after him, Tony flying out of the jet at top speed and targeting the larger bots, while Hulk came roaring out to take care of the low level ones. Natasha and Clint worked together in their own circle, smoothly playing off one another’s strengths to create a layer of carnage in their wake. Instead of using his bow, Clint had opted for a staff with some of Natasha’s electric shock technology wired into both ends, and he wielded it with deadly accuracy.

As fighting went, it was a pretty typical run in with Doom. Bots came in, Avengers were called out when the local police couldn’t handle them, damage was dealt. Cap’s shield whizzed around, Widow’s gauntlets shorted out bots, and Hulk smashed them into tiny pieces. Iron Man used his repulsor beams to blast them away from domestic housing, and Hawkeye took them on in an impressive display of hand to hand. All routine. Except when it wasn’t anymore.

“Cap, on your four!” Tony shouted into the comms, and Steve turned, but not quick enough to escape the damage of a self-detonating bot. The blast knocked Steve back several feet, and he was buried in an avalanche of debris as he hit the base of an apartment building.

Bucky whorled to toss a chunk of concrete at a bot approaching Natasha as she struggled with two more, taking its head clean off. It clunked loudly to the ground. Clint’s leg had yet to fully heal itself, and it was obvious the still healing leg was taking its toll on his energy as he grappled with a bot that had somehow gotten hold of the middle of his staff. Backing up, Bucky took a flying leap and somersaulted to the grass a few feet away, intending to rush to Clint’s aid. However, Doom’s infernal destructo-bots had other ideas. One jumped him from behind, and he struggled as he attempted to pry it off. Even for a super-soldier, it was hard to fight the strength of one of the bots. He heard Natasha give a yell, as his bot-captor pivoted him away from her and Clint. There was an electric sound, a thud, another hoarse yell, and then nothing. The grip around him dropped, and Bucky rubbed his neck gratefully.

“What happened?” he called as he jogged over to Natasha.

“I used one of my electric discs to short out their main command system.” She explained, pointing with her toe to the downed bot at her feet. “I had a hunch that if I could figure it out on one, I might be able to get them all in one go.”

“Clint?” he panted, looking around and finding their archer laying in the grass a few feet away.

Natasha jogged over and knelt down beside him, carefully checking him over. “There is a lump on his head, and he is unconscious, but I do not know the severity.” She tapped her comm. “Tony! Clint is down. I need you to have JARVIS scan his head for internal bleeding.”

“Copy that, I’m on my way.”

Natasha raised a hand and slapped Clint, hard. His head lolled to the side and he groaned, frowning.

“Tasha, why’re you hitting me?” He slurred slightly, and Bucky and Natasha exchanged worried looks.

“You were unconscious,” she informed as Tony landed beside them. “Do not move. Tony will scan your head to check for injuries.”

Their group chat was interrupted by a dust covered Steve, shield in hand, staggering up to them looking dazed.

“You okay, pal?” Bucky asked intently, studying him.

“Ribs.” He said tersely through clenched teeth, gesturing. “Nothing more really.”

Bucky nodded. “Getcha checked out on the jet. For now you can lean on me.”

Steve gratefully leaned against Bucky, watching the proceedings at their feet curiously. “What happened to him?”

“Concussion. Mild.” Tony spoke up. “You’re a lucky man, Barton. You get to live to see another day.”

“Whee.” Clint deadpanned. “Now can you help me up? I’d like to go home now.”

* * *

 

Needless to say, everyone fell apart like a cheap suit once their feet hit the floor back in the tower. Tenuous grasps on headspaces dropped immediately, everyone grumbling and complaining as Natasha, Bucky, and Phil scrambled to play interference.

“Clint, does anything else hurt?”

“Tony, are you alright?”

“Bruce, you need to get to bed.”

“Stevie? Does anything else hurt besides your ribs?”

A myriad of questions shot back and forth over one another, caregivers worrying over suddenly distraught Littles.

Phil caught Tony as he attempted to get Bruce back upstairs. “Tony? How’s your hand? Let me see.” Natasha floated by, carrying Clint, who’d given into his urge to cry as his head throbbed along with his leg.

“I’m fine, really. It’s no big deal,” Tony tried to pass it off but Phil wasn’t having any of his BS as Bucky dragged Steve past them. Tony squirmed on the spot, a sleepy Bruce tuning back in for a moment.

“Tone, show him. I know you popped your stitches using your gauntlets.”

“Tattletale,” Tony muttered petulantly, finally showing Phil his palm. The gauze had been stained scarlet in a large portion, and Phil sighed.

“Alright. Bruce, can you get upstairs and changed on your own?”

“M’fine. F’I fall asleep, JARVIS will wake me up.” He murmured, pulling away from Tony and stumbling into the elevator. The doors shut behind him and suddenly the two of them were alone.

“Come on. There’s an aid kit down here I can use before we head back to bed.” Phil walked back up the ramp and pulled the kit down from the overhead compartment. “Come and sit,” he pointed to the bench that ran along the length of the jet’s sides.

Tony sat. “I’ve never been scared of them before.” He murmured quietly, sounding perplexed and shaken. “I’ve fought Doom’s bots a billion times before, but they were never scary till now.” He grimaced as Phil took his hand gently and began to unwind the dirty gauze.

“Do you think it’s because you weren’t ready to fully age up yet?” Phil asked softly, as he splashed some rubbing alcohol onto the cut, and Tony reflexively tried to pull away. Phil’s grip tightened, not allowing him the freedom to do so. When he looked up again there were tears in Tony’s eyes. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Phil murmured, and gave him a pat on the knee. “This is going to still be pretty raw when I take out the old stitches, and it’ll hurt for a little while longer.”

“Wasn’t ready.” Tony admitted, fighting against his quivering chin as Phil worked the stitches out of his palm. “I don’t think I was ready at all.” The needle began to go in and out of his raw flesh, and Tony couldn’t help but cry. It was late, he was tired, they’d all nearly died, two of them were hurt worse than he was, and he _hated needles_.

“It’s okay,” Phil murmured when he heard the soft sniffling. “It’s alright, I’m almost done and then you and I can go back to sleep.” He closed off the sutures and wrapped the hand once more, clipping the gauze in place on the back of Tony’s hand. Clearing away the supplies as quickly as possible, Phil stood up and ran a hand through Tony’s hair, heart breaking at the way Tony clung to him. “It’s been a long day for you. Why don’t we get you back to bed, maybe wash your face?” he asked, tilting Tony’s head up so he could look him in the eyes. Tony gave a little tired nod. “Alright. C’mon.” Phil led him towards the elevator and shepherded him off to the bathroom once they’d reached the family floor. “Wash your face off,” he murmured, handing Tony a damp cloth. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to make sure Bruce actually made it to a bed.” It wouldn’t be the first time they’d found Bruce post-Hulk curled up in a weird spot, fast asleep. Thankfully, he’d actually made it to a bed this time, though he was still in the pair of sweats and clean tee they kept for him on the jet. Phil just covered him up and left him there to sleep it off, returning as Tony turned off the bathroom lights with a yawn. “Right. You get to bed too. We can have a nice lazy day tomorrow, let everybody recover.”

“Sounds nice,” Tony murmured, and actually let Phil hug him this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mo dhuine beag-- My little guy  
> Ragazzi-- Boys  
> Fottiti-- Fuck you  
> Miele-- Honey  
> Moy sladkiy mal'chik-- My sweet boy  
> Malen'kiy yastreb-- Little hawk  
> Nyet-- No  
> Nyet, ya ne khochu!-- No, I don't want it!  
> Buachaill leanbh-- Baby boy  
> Milaya-- Sweetie (loosely translated)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit from Assistant Director Hill disrupts the family breakfast. Clint reminds Phil he promised a trip to the aquarium, and Bucky decides to take the boys to the zoo. Steve's a little older than normal. Maria and Phil's past comes into a clearer light, and Bruce is a sleepy boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind feedback on this work as well as TAIS! Loved every single comment I've gotten so far. Please continue to give me feedback, as I'm looking to figure out solidly where I want the series to go. I may decide to do some multi chapter pieces interspersed with one-shots, so if you want to see the littles in a certain situation, let me know! There's still four chapters left in this work, as well, and I've only plotted out through chapter seven so far. So there's room for suggestions in this work as well. Translations included in the end notes. Forgive me if i butcher anyone's native language, as I am working from Google Translate, and it tends to not be the most accurate thing in the world. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Sometimes, Phil thought idly as he woke up slowly to a quiet atmosphere, the best thing in the world was waking up in your own bed on your own time to the sounds of nothing. No robots, no aliens, no screaming children, just… sleep-induced silence. Stretching lazily, he let out a little groan before rolling out of bed and shrugging into his robe and slippers. Padding down the hallway, he peeked into Clint’s room.

A soft, sleepy sound met his ears and he entered the room with a smile. “Good morning,” he greeted, sitting down on the end of the bed. Clint squirmed a little before sitting up with a yawn and rubbing his eyes.

“G’morning,” Clint mumbled sleepily, reaching for a hug. Phil obliged, running a hand through his hair. “Fishies?” he asked hopefully.

“We’ll see. How about you and I go into the kitchen and get some breakfast first?” he pulled away and offered a hand. Clint wrapped his Nemo blanket around his shoulders and took Phil’s hand, walking slowly due to his stiff leg. “Want me to get you something for your leg?” he asked softly as he deposited Clint into a chair at the table.

“Kay,” Clint mumbled with another yawn. Phil retrieved a glass of water and two more pills for him, warning him to be careful not to spill as he thought about what he’d make for breakfast. Not long after he’d started staring into the fridge aimlessly, Natasha showed up, yawning as she poured herself a mug of coffee JARVIS had helpfully brewed.

“JARVIS,” Phil asked hopelessly. “What can I make us for food? Do we have enough of anything for everyone?”

_I can order something. I do not believe that the fridge is stocked enough for those such as Bucky and Natasha._

“Right. Pick something and order it for us. I’m too tired to cook.” He decided, shutting the fridge and getting himself some coffee.

Natasha chuckled from beside him as she leaned against the counters, coffee held firmly between both hands for the warmth. “We all are.” She stated, nodding towards Bucky as he stumbled blearily into the room.

“Coffee.” He murmured. “Need. Coffee.” True, it didn’t help any of them with augmented metabolisms actually stay awake, but there was still a placebo effect from it. Eventually he found the coffee pot and managed to pour himself a cup of the strong black brew, sipping at it gratefully. Blinking owlishly over the mug, he sat down beside Clint. “Good morning. You’re up early.”

Clint shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep any more.” He fiddled with the fuzzy blanket around his shoulders.

Phil and Natasha sauntered over in their own pace, sitting down beside the others. “What do you want to do today, Clint?” Natasha asked, and Phil cleared his throat.

“Actually, I believe I owe Clint a trip to the aquarium today.”

Clint perked up. “Really?”

“If you’re good during breakfast.” Phil agreed. He looked over at Natasha. “Think you two can handle the others while I’m gone with him?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” Bucky spoke up. “Bruce and Tony won’t be up till sometime after ten, and Steve’s no handful even if he is clingy. I can count on one hand the times he’s been hard to handle when he was Little. And this includes tiny, chronically ill Steve.”

JARVIS chimed softly. _Phil, breakfast is on the way up. Agent Hill is in the elevator as well. She wished to commend the team for a job well done last night, in person._

Bucky spoke up. “Clint? Wanna help me wake up Stevie?”

Phil gave him a grateful look for running interference.

“M’kay.” Clint was clearly still sleepy as he followed Bucky towards the staircase. Bucky gave in and leaned over, picking him up and carrying him to Steve’s room. Once they were in the nursery, he sat him on his feet and turned to close the door. Clint took a few steps forward and waited until Bucky undid the railing, sliding it down so Clint could get to Steve better. “Stevie,” he sang sweetly. “Wake up! You gotta come get breakfast with us!” he poked Steve’s cheek.

Steve shifted slowly, blinking wide eyes up at them. He turned his head and stared at Clint, before reaching out insistent arms.

“I can’t carry you, silly! You’re too heavy!” Clint wrapped his Nemo blanket more firmly around his shoulders, the soft fabric trailing along the floor.

Steve craned his neck and looked past Clint to Bucky, making little insistent sounds as he reached out to be held. Bucky approached and scooped him up. “Why don’t you go pick out something for him to wear, Clint? I’m gonna change him real quick.” Clint nodded and scampered over to the dresser, giving Bucky momentary privacy to get Steve cleaned up. Fortunately, he was a pro and it didn’t take him long. By the time Clint was done picking out what he wanted Steve to wear that day, Steve was out of his dirty pajamas and into a clean diaper.

“Here!” Clint was pleased with himself as he handed Bucky the shirt and pants. It was simple: just an elastic waist pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt with a puppy on it.

“Thank you, that’s very helpful.” Bucky murmured to him, and Clint beamed, picking up his discarded blanket and wrapping it back around himself. “Alright, bud. Hold still,” Bucky told the baby as he wrangled him into his outfit for the day. “Clint, can you grab a pair of socks? They’re in the third drawer.”

“Is blue okay?” Clint asked, wanting to make sure before he made his choice.

“Blue is great, pal.” Bucky assured, as Steve attempted to squirm back into his arms. “Hey, not yet. I gotta make sure your toes don’t get cold!” He took the socks form Clint and deftly worked them onto clumsy feet. “There. Now your toes won’t get cold, and we can all go have breakfast!”

“I’m hungry.” Clint agreed with a vigerous nod as Bucky began to carry Steve towards the door. “I hope there’s potatoes. They’re my favorite, but Papa says I gotta eat something else besides just ‘tatoes.”

Bucky felt a chuckle rumble in his chest. Kids really were the cutest when they rambled like that. “No running.” He reminded, as the elevator opened on the kitchen.

“Stivi!” Natasha’s face lit up, immediately coming over to take him from Bucky’s arms. Bucky scowled. How dare she steal his baby? He was _his_ baby, thank you very much! Stevie hummed contentedly and lay his head on her shoulder, one hand playing with her soft hair. Little traitor. He left Natasha to her devices as he followed Clint to the table, brows raising in surprise.

“Well, look who’s up before noon!” Bucky drawled, immediately loading a plate with roasted potatoes and scrambled eggs.

Tony scowled over his cup of coffee. “Bite me.” He mumbled, and Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, well maybe that’d sound more threatening if you weren’t still in the midst of an epic case of bed-head.” He took a bite of his breakfast and looked around. “Where’s Phil?”

Tony jerked his head. “Living room. Hill came in with the food and he didn’t want her to freak when you showed up with Clint and Steve.”

Bucky nodded slowly. If anyone wouldn’t tell their secret, it was Hill. She seemed like a solid person, much more trustworthy than that Fury character. Bucky didn’t like him one bit. And he didn’t want Stevie interacting with him either. He was glad when Phil had managed to get Hill to take over all Avengers related duties form Fury. “Natalia,” he sighed in defeat as Natasha sat down to his right, crooning softly at Stevie as she held a bottle in her opposite hand. “You know he’s supposed to eat solid food when he can-“ Bucky stopped speaking at her calculated stare.

“James, he is a baby. More so, one I share equal responsibility in caring for. I shall treat him as I see fit. Besides, a little extra coddling won’t hurt him, will it, Stivi?” She cooed, leaning forward and nuzzling noses with Steve, who giggled. “See?” Natasha leveled another stare at James. “He does not mind. Besides, his nutritional content is not compromised. Bruce has done an excellent job in preparing this powder to suit Steve’s needs. It is a perfect meal replacement for him.”

Bucky gritted his teeth and turned forcibly back to his potatoes. Seventy years he’d been caring for his kid. Natalia knew him all of a few months, and all the sudden she thought she could throw a wrench in the entire works, just throw away all of Steve’s routines like _she_ was in charge. He loosened his grip on his fork. It wouldn’t do to have another silverware casualty, even if he was pissed off.

“Clint, do you want anything to eat?” Phil strode back into the kitchen, a very casually dressed Assistant Director at his heels.

“Can I have some grapes, too?” Clint asked from his seat, feet propped up on the seat and arms propped on his knees.

“Sure. Do you still want eggs and potatoes?” Phil asked as he poured Clint a glass of juice and set it in front of his plate.

“Uh huh. When are we gonna go to see the fishies?” he asked eagerly, as Phil got the grapes from the fridge and portioned a few onto Clint’s plate.

“Later, honey,” Phil repeated calmly, ladling potatoes and eggs onto Clint’s plate beside the grapes. “Now eat your breakfast. Coffee, Maria?”

Maria Hill must have been a true saint. She took in the sight before her with barely a blink or break in stride. “Sure, black.”

Phil nodded. “You can have Bruce’s chair. He likely won’t be up for another few hours.” He pointed to the empty spot beside Tony, who gave an impish smile.

Maria gave him a look and he quickly went back to his food as she sat down and laced her fingers together.

“Breakfast, Hill?” Bucky spoke between bites.

“I did eat before I came over, but…” she gave the steaming trays of food a once over. “All I had was half a slightly moldy bagel.” She loaded a plate. “Guess I spend too much time at the office these days to keep a fully stocked kitchen.” Phil placed a mug beside her plate and she gave a nod of thanks.

“The aquarium opens at ten, Clint. That’s in two hours, so if we have breakfast and then get ready, by the time we ride over there it should be open.”

Clint bounced excitedly as he ate his eggs. “Can we see the dolphins again?”

“Sure.” Phil agreed easily, finding himself excited to have a day just him and Clint. They’d not had a solo outing together when he was in headspace.

Natasha smiled contentedly, pulling Steve to her shoulder as she set the empty bottle on the table. She swayed lightly, cheek against his ear as she hummed to soothe him, patting him between the shoulder blades.

“I’m done!” Clint piped up excitedly a moment later, and Bucky scrutinized his plate.

“How about you eat some more first? Maybe all a’those grapes?”

Clint pouted. He really wanted to go get dressed! Maybe if he got dressed faster, then the aquarium would open faster!

Phil cleared his throat. “You do need to eat more, Clint. We don’t want to get hungry and have to stop looking at the fishies, do we?”

Clint looked scandalized, hurrying to clear off his plate.

Natasha laughed softly as she adjusted Steve to sit facing the table. “Moy yastreb,” she said fondly, with a shake of her head. Clint perked up at her words, clearly between headspaces now.

“Da,” he mumbled, setting the fork down on his emptied plate and rubbing at his eyes. “Vash yastreb…” he pushed to his feet. “Gonna change clothes.” Uncoordinated, seeming confused in a way that someone half in headspace often was, Clint made his way to the elevator, blanket still clutched around his shoulders.

Natasha’s lips quirked. “Look after him,” she said to Phil. “I enjoy seeing him like this, and caring for him, but I do miss my partner.”

“Like I’d ever let anything happen to him,” Phil responded, and Maria hid a smile in her coffee cup. “You know I take this responsibility seriously.”

“I know.” She said simply, and passed Steve off to Bucky. “I am going to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Natasha disappeared into the elevator.

Bucky cradled Steve, pleased. “Maidin mhaith, mo grá,” he murmured, and Steve smiled up at him. “Cad ba mhaith leat a dhéanamh inniu, hmm?” he asked, scooting his chair back and rubbing Steve’s tummy. Steve didn’t answer, of course, too far gone to really be verbal. “We could watch a movie, or go to the zoo, or maybe hang out with Bruce and Tony?” he listed off idly, as Maria stood up and placed her dishes in the sink.

“I gotta run.” Hill spoke up from her place beside the sink. “Coulson, great job last night. Hope nobody sustained any irreparable damages.” She crossed to stand beside Phil, shaking hands with him firmly.

“Maria,” he responded good-naturedly. “You’ll have to come by one night this week. We can spar together, like the old days.”

A half-smile graced her lips. “Careful. I may just kick your ass, like I did in the academy.”

Phil chuckled. “You’re on.” He watched her leave, a wistful sigh leaving his lips.

“What’s the story there?” Bucky asked curiously.

“We trained together, SHIELD Academy. We were partners during training, but as we gained experience it became evident we were more valuable for our solo efforts than team ops.” Phil shrugged. “After that we didn’t see each other for a while, at least not in a professional capacity. I had my hands full with Clint, Maria was training other agents…” he took the last sip of his coffee and stared into the distance, remembering. “Next thing I knew she was the Assistant Director, and I was the handler for Hawkeye and Widow.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a genial smile. “That’s a full time job.”

Phil snorted. “You can say that again.” He pushed to his feet and carried his dishes over, placing them on the growing pile in the sink. “I’m going to shower. Do me a favor and have Bruce and Tony take care of these dishes. And don’t forget to check on Tony’s stitches.”

“Can do.” Bucky gave a mock salute, and Phil rolled his eyes as he headed for the elevator. “Well,” Bucky spoke to the empty room. “Guess it’s just you and me, huh, pal?” he jostled Stevie in his arms. “You wanna go somewhere today? Huh? I know you’re not Big right now, so you can’t draw any of the animals like you like to do, but we can still go to the zoo?” It’d be a little more difficult with Steve being in such a young headspace, but they could probably manage if Bruce and Tony tagged along. Sometimes Steve’s legs didn’t work too good when he was feeling super small. Bucky hoped that he could coax Steve into a more toddler-like mindset for their day trip. He’d love to engage with his boy and to be able to show him around and listen to his chatter. But that was up to Steve. He didn’t usually favor older headspaces, he was firmly comfortable at one year or less. Bucky stood and carried Steve into the living room, sitting down on the sofa and cradling him close. “Cá bhfuil mo buachaill mór?” he asked, nuzzling Stevie’s neck. “Hmm? Cá bhfuil sé, Stevie? Do you know?” Bucky pulled back and cupped Steve’s cheeks, staring into innocent blue eyes. Polar opposites, Little Steve and Big Steve were. But both sides had mastered the art of the innocent stare. “Where’s my big boy?” he repeated softly, pressing their foreheads together. “Do you think you can be a little bit Bigger than usual today, lómhara? Daddy wants to take you to the zoo today, but he needs you to be big enough that you can walk by yourself.” Stevie squirmed in his arms, frowning a little as a soft sound of confusion emitted from his mouth. “It’s alright, lovebug.” Bucky assured. “Maybe we can even get Bruce and Tony to go with us!”

“Get Bruce and Tony to go where?”

Bucky looked over his shoulder. “Speak of the devil,” he murmured. Bruce leaned tiredly against the doorway for support. “I was thinkin’ of takin’ Stevie to the zoo today, while Phil takes Clint to the aquarium. You two game? It’s not like you can do much anyway, since you’re still under Phil-instituted grounding. At least with us you can get out of the house and have fun.”

Tony sipped tiredly at his coffee, mulling it over. “Bruce?” he queried.

Bruce jerked a little, yawning as he awakened from a moment of micro-sleep. Hulking out really took it out of him. “Hmm, sure yeah.” He mumbled. “S-sounds fun.”

“I’m in.” Tony responded, watching Bucky continue to lightly stroke Steve’s cheeks with his thumbs. “What time?”

“Let’s wait till the others leave, then go after. I gotta see if I can get Stevie here to be a little older, so he can walk without being carried.”

Tony drifted over and sat curiously on the other half of the sofa, staring at Steve. “Never seen him older than this.” He commented. “He doesn’t do it often, I assume?” There was a clatter in the kitchen—Bruce grabbing himself a plate. Two main things tended to drive Bruce when he was post-Hulk: hunger and sleep. Both were voracious appetites for a good day afterward.

There was something more Big Tony than Teen Tony in his eyes as Bucky shifted slightly to make eye contact. Something analytical and curious and bright. “No,” he replied. “You’re right, he doesn’t. Usually he’s younger, but I can’t very well carry him around, can I? The press would have a field day. At least Clint’s old enough that people won’t really be able to tell he’s Little.”

Tony hummed. “I doubt there’d be a lot of press at the zoo. But you’re right. I’ll have JARVIS put a driver on stand-by. Maybe Happy can get us a little more discretion than we’d be afforded with another driver. Plus he’s the head of security.” His face looked hopeful as he spoke up again. “You know… I’ve lived here for years, and don’t think I’ve ever done anything besides donate money to the zoo?”

“You…” Bucky stuttered. “You’ve never been to the zoo? Even when Steve and I had no money, we still went to the zoo.”

Tony ducked his head self consciously, Big side rearing its head as he spoke up softly. “Didn’t exactly have the happiest of childhoods, here. Not really anyone around to care if I did go to the zoo. My nanny was more adamant about not behaving like my old man, and you can see how that turned out.”

Bucky felt his heart sink a little. How could Howard have been such a piece of shit to someone as kind as Tony? He cradled Steve with his left arm, flesh one reaching out to settle at the nape of Tony’s neck, squeezing softly—a calming and grounding gesture he often used with Steve. “It’s okay, pal. Didn’t mean anything by it. I was just…” he sighed. “I guess I have a little different view of your Dad than you do.”

Tony’s fingers curled around his Stark Industries mug, as if the warmth from the liquid inside could somehow seep into his soul. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the hand against his neck felt nice. It was soothing, in an odd way, having that warmth and pressure there. Not like other people, who had touched his neck to hurt him. Not like Afghanistan. He shuddered softly and looked up, eyes conflicted and dark. “S’fine.” His voice was clipped, but his intention to mend fences was clear. “Let’s just focus on getting Steve ready to go.”

Bucky hummed and gave another little squeeze before letting go. “Alright, pal.” His voice was soft. “But I’m under orders from Phil to check that hand of yours before we go anywhere.” He glanced sidelong at Steve, whose eyes seemed brighter. “You go and eat breakfast,” Bucky gave Tony a gentle nudge. “I’m gonna go and get him dressed real quick. Hopefully by the time we’ve returned, he’ll be ready to walk by himself.”

Bucky swiftly stepped off the elevator and hauled Steve down the hallway to his nursery, setting him down in the middle of the floor. Kneeling, he looked Steve in the eyes. “Stevie, baby, can you tell me how old you are today?” Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he gave a warm smile.

Steve shifted and looked confused, taking his fingers out of his mouth. Ultimately, he held up a few sticky fingers.

“Oh, wow!” Bucky gushed, adamant about making sure Stevie was supported whatever age he felt like. “Three, huh? That’s a lot!” He glanced Steve over. “You wanna be a big boy and help me pick out your clothes today?”

Steve shook his head.

“You don’t?” Bucky was surprised. “Why not, buachaill cliste?” he murmured, running a hand through Steve’s fluffy hair.

Steve reached for him insistently. “Up.” He mumbled, and rubbed his eyes.

“Still a little tired?” Bucky empathized, and stood, holding him on his hip. “That’s okay. So are Bruce and Tony. You’re not the only sleepy boy wandering around this tower today.” He opened the top drawer of the dresser. “What shirt do you want to wear to the zoo?”

Steve leaned a little and peered inside, pointing to a plain red shirt. Bucky was further surprised. Maybe there was a little bit of Big Steve lurking inside his boy’s brain today, whispering things about the press and people taking pictures. He kissed Steve’s cheek. “Good choice.” He shook the garment out and draped it over his shoulder, shutting the shirt drawer and opening the next one down. “Pants?”

Steve shrugged.

“Not sure? That’s okay, pal.” Bucky just grabbed the top pair of jeans and called it good, draping them over the shirt. “Alright. Now we gotta find you somethin’ to wear under these.” They didn’t really have anything suited to older kids or toddlers in Stevie’s room, but Clint sometimes had problems wetting the bed, so Phil kept a stash of Pull-Ups in Clint’s closet. Bucky carried Steve across the hallway and knocked lightly at Clint’s door.

Natasha poked her head out.

“Stevie’s feelin’ a little bigger than usual today, and I was wondering if you could spare a few of Clint’s uh, big boy underwear?” he asked. Clint threw an absolute hissy fit if anyone dared to call them ‘Pull-Ups’. They’d learned fast to use code words or else deal with him melting down in little boy frustration.

“Just a moment.” Natasha disappeared and the door shut again, before she reappeared a moment later, handing him the requested items. “Clint, stop jumping on the bed,” she said wearily, and Bucky grinned. Natasha shut the door in his face.

Chuckling, he moved back across the hall, lightly pushing the door closed with his foot as he stepped back into the room. Setting Steve on the changing table, he allowed him to squirm into a sitting position before setting his clean clothes beside him. “Right. Let’s get you changed.”

A soft knock sounded at the door just as Steve started to come out of his shell and shake off the last clinging vestiges of sleep.

“Come in.”

Tony stuck his head in. “We’re ready. Phil and Clint are about to leave, I think Natasha is going with them. But he says you need to take a look at my hand.”

“Alright. Is Bruce around? Someone needs to watch Steve.”

“Hang on.” He disappeared for a moment, before returning with Bruce at his heels.

“Okay, fear beag. You stay here for a second. I gotta run and help Tony fix his hand up real fast.” Bucky directed, as Steve gave a little whine. “No, honey. Stay with Bruce.” He gave a firm look and Steve stayed put.

Tony hissed as the dirty gauze was peeled away, though Bucky was pleased to note that nothing seemed infected, just tender. He tossed the dirty gauze in the trashcan and put some more ointment on top of the stitches. “Just wrap this up and you’re good to go,” he murmured as he cut another segment of gauze carefully from the roll. Gently, he maneuvered the injured hand so that it was ensconced in gauze once more, adding some tape to keep the end from unraveling. “There. You’re free to go.” He slid the first aid kit neatly back underneath the sink, and the two crossed back over to the nursery. “Alright, you two. Ready to go?”

Steve nodded excitedly, scrambling to his feet and running to get his bag, shoving it eagerly into Bucky’s hands. “Go, go!” he chanted, and Bruce laughed as he unfolded himself from the floor.

“Someone’s excited.”

Bucky draped the shoulder strap over his arm and blushed a little. “Guess we haven’t been anywhere in a while. Not when he’s like this anyway. Usually we stay in.”

Tony fidgeted nervously. “Car’s downstairs. Happy’ll be on stand-by for us in case something comes up when we’re out.”

Steve tugged at Bucky’s hand, making a little exasperated noise when Bucky didn’t budge an inch. “Go?” he asked, swapping tactics and pulling out the puppy eyes.

“In a minute,” Bucky assured. “We gotta make sure everyone has what they need first.” He turned to Bruce. “Got your coat?”

“On the bed.”

“Go put it on. Tony?”

“Yeah, mine’s in there too.” He still sounded a little nervous.

“Alright, well, lemme wrangle this one into something warm on top of his tee shirt and then we can go.”

Steve perked up and let go of Bucky’s hand. “Go,” he whined, as Bucky forced one of his hooded sweatshirts over Steve’s head.

“We’re gonna.” Bucky assured, as he shrugged into his leather jacket. Mentally, he made a list of everything he’d put into Steve’s bag, then he stopped. Steve’s bag was far too young looking to be taken into public. He sighed. “We’re gonna have to put your stuff in a backpack or something.” He decided, and stuck his head out the door. “Bruce, bring me an empty backpack when you come back.”

A beat passed before Tony came back into the room, sunglasses hanging from his coat pocket as Bruce straggled in behind, backpack in hand. “Is this okay?” he asked, unsure what it was for.

“That’s fine, I just gotta put Steve’s things into something not quite so… conspicuous.”

Steve took Bruce’s hand in one of his and fiddled with Bruce’s fingers as Bucky quickly dumped all his things into the plain black bag.

“Alright. Now we can go.”

Steve squealed in excitement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moy yastreb-- My hawk  
> Da-- Yes/Yeah  
> Vash yastreb-- Your hawk  
> Maidin mhaith, mo grá-- Good morning, my love  
> Cad ba mhaith leat a dhéanamh inniu, hmm?-- What do you want to do today, hmm?   
> Cá bhfuil mo buachaill mór?-- Where’s my big boy?   
> Cá bhfuil sé, Stevie?-- Where is he, Stevie?   
> Lómhara-- Precious  
> Buachaill cliste-- Smart boy  
> Fear beag-- Little guy


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil, Natasha, and Clint go to the aquarium. Bucky takes the boys to the zoo. Steve is older than normal, and amuses Tony and Bruce with his precociousness. The activity takes its toll, though, and soon he drops back down to his normal age. There's cuddling. Basically this was an excuse for me to write a large scale cuddle pile of Avengers, feat. Tony cuddling with Steve and Bruce.

The back seat of the taxi was a flurry of impatient energy as the little group got nearer and nearer to the zoo. Bruce was quiet, fighting to hide a smile as Stevie chattered happily to Tony about his favorite parts of the zoo, and Tony made every effort to sound interested. Bucky sat up front with Happy and the two discussed security and contingency plans in case the paparazzi did happen to show up. Smoothly, Happy pulled them up beside the curb and parked the car. Steve fumbled with his seatbelt excitedly, before Tony leaned over and gave a little crooked smile.

“Here, lemme help you,” he clicked the belt unlocked and Steve wriggled out of its confinement.

“Go?” he asked impatiently, as Bruce and Tony rid themselves of their own seatbelts.

“Hang on. We can’t leave without Uncle Bucky,” Bruce pointed out, laying a soothing hand on Steve’s arm.

Steve leaned forward. “Daddy,” he whined. “Daddy, go? Aminals?”

Bucky turned slightly in his seat. “Just a second, baby.” He leaned forward and gathered Stevie’s backpack in his hand. “Alright. Now we can go. You two watch him and make sure he doesn’t step out into traffic or anything,” Bucky ordered, as he slid from the seat. He kept close watch on the trio as they crossed to the entrance, Steve sandwiched between Bruce and Tony. Bucky turned back and looked at Happy, who gave a firm nod of reassurance as he pulled away. They’d be safe. Happy would go out of his way to make sure Tony (and by extension the others) had a safe trip. Bucky jogged a little to catch up, stopping them as he dug some cash out of his pockets. “Bruce, get the tickets. Tony, Steve and I can wait over there for you.” Bucky led the other two to a secluded corner where he could have eyes on all three of his charges at once. “Tony, wanna grab us a map?” He pointed to the little map kiosk a few feet away, subtly reaching out to take hold of Steve’s sweatshirt as he made to scamper off. Steve came screeching to a hault and pouted, watching Tony saunter off in the direction of the maps.

“Dada.” Stevie pouted, crossing his arms. “Not nice.”

“Daddy’s not nice?” Bucky drawled, amused as he kept hold of Steve’s shirt. “Daddy oughta buy a kiddie leash for you, baby boy. Big you and Little you, for that matter. Always runnin’ off away from me or jumping out of a plane without a parachute.” Bucky was definitely not joking as Tony returned with two maps in hand. Bucky shoved one in the back pocket of his jeans and let Tony peruse the one in his hands. “Where do you think we should go first?”

Tony took the ticket Bruce handed him without taking his eyes off the map. “Um.”

That was when it started.

“Oh my god, is that _Tony Stark_?!” A gaggle of teenage girls was standing off to their left, not-so-quietly whispering to one another as they gawked, bellies showing in their short tanktops even though the temperature merited a coat. “And… _oh my god._ ” Bucky watched as one of their eyes landed on Steve. “Oh my god, it’s… _Captain America._ ” Bucky angled himself so that Steve was halfway blocked from their field of vision, protective and possessive streak acting up at some of their unsavory comments about Steve’s physique.

Tony’d stiffened the moment he picked up on his name, and it physically hurt Bucky to see the fake smile spread across his face, back stiffening as he put on his celebrity persona. “Hello, ladies,” Tony spoke up, taking a step in their direction. Long hair swung as heads pivoted towards him, jaws dropping at being addressed by _the_ Tony Stark.

Everything about him oozed charm as he gave a thousand watt smile, spreading his arms wide. “Cap’s not taking photo ops today, I’m afraid.” The girls’ tittering turned to displeasure, then back to pleasure at Tony’s next statement. “But Doctor Banner and I would be happy to take a picture with you.” Tony flicked his sunglasses expertly, settling them on his face and waving Bruce over. Bruce followed, looking awkward beside Tony’s glow. Tony draped an arm over Bruce’s shoulders and looked around at the girls. “So. Who’s taking this group selfie?” Bucky took his opportunity to herd Steve through the gate, off to the side where the girls couldn’t see them anymore. He was definitely doing something nice for Tony later.

It was a few minutes before they returned, Tony putting his sunglasses back into his jacket pocket and deflating somewhat, Bruce looking slightly awed.

“How’d it go?” Bucky asked, grabbing Steve as he made to wander off again.

Tony smirked. “Bruce made a friend. Apparently, they’re covering his research in one of her classes this semester. She’s a duel credit student, interested in science and physics, and has _quite_ the crush on Dr. Banner over there. Could barely get her to stop talking once she’d introduced herself. ”

Bruce blushed. “Tony, please. I’d rather not discuss it.” He said softly, and Bucky cleared his throat.

“Tony, drop it. But thank you for doing that for Steve.”

Tony’s teasing smirk turned to a genuine smile of amusement as he stared at Steve struggling with Bucky’s arm around his waist. “No problem. Looks like he’s got more important things on his mind.” He leaned over and tapped Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, squirt. What’s got you so excited, anyway? Where are you trying to go?”

Stevie squirmed and struggled some more, staring at Tony. “Aminals!” he insisted, unable to pick just one kind of animal he was excited about.

Tony laughed. “Alright, animals.” He agreed. “Let ‘im go. I can’t stand watching him pout like this anymore.”

“Let him go, maybe he’ll be like one of those homing pigeons and we can just follow him around until he settles on something.” Bruce commented in amusement.

Bucky let go of Steve’s shirt, instead taking his hand tightly. “You can’t wonder off, Stevie.” He reminded. Steve tugged on their joined hands impatiently, pointing. “Yeah, I see those giraffes. Do you wanna go see them?” Bucky let Steve pull him towards the giraffe pen, Bruce and Tony drifting along behind them.

* * *

 

Natasha let Clint take her hand and lead her around, telling her all of his favorite fish and why he thought the coral exhibit was so pretty, and the things he’d seen in Finding Nemo that the aquarium had on display. Phil trailed along behind them and kept subtle tabs on their surroundings, occasionally letting Clint comment on something to him. Even when he was trying to enjoy a nice day out with his boy, he still couldn’t seem to let his guard down. He strolled over to where Clint and Natasha were standing beside one another and looking at a jellyfish display.

“They’re so graceful,” he murmured, and Natasha hummed.

“I like how they’re clear. It’s weird.” Clint spoke up.

Phil laughed softly. “They are weird.” He slung an arm over Clint’s shoulders. “Are you having fun?”

Clint leaned into him a little and nodded. “I like comin’ here, even when I’m Big. But it’s better if you an’ Mama are here.” He murmured quietly, and Phil felt his heart soar.

“I’m glad.” Phil smiled. “Now let’s go see some dolphins before lunch.” Clint perked up. “No.” Phil said firmly, before he could open his mouth and beg for Phil to buy him one again.

* * *

 

It had warmed up considerably since the four of them had arrived at the zoo, layers shed and tied around waists as they meandered around the pathways and laughed at Stevie’s chatter. Bucky checked his watch and took Steve’s hand once more, as Bruce and Tony ducked into the bathrooms.

“It’s going to be time for lunch soon.” He told Steve, who was more occupied with staring across the way at the penguins than he was with Bucky. Bucky sighed and cupped Steve’s cheek, turning his gaze. “What do you want for lunch, honey?”

Stevie squirmed and thought about it. He didn’t care! He just wanted to see more animals! He let out an exasperated whine. “Aminals,” he insisted. “No food!”

“I know, honey. They aren’t going anywhere, but I coulda sworn I heard your tummy talking a few minutes ago. We gotta stop and eat something before we look at any more animals.” He looked over at the others as they returned, eyes pleading. “I bet Bruce and Tony are hungry and wanna stop for lunch.”

Bruce nodded. “I could eat.”

“I’m starved,” Tony agreed, and Steve stomped one foot in irritation.

Bucky gave him a warning look. “Steven Grant Rogers, if you carry on like that we’ll pack up and leave right now. I won’t have you spoiling anyone’s day with a temper tantrum.”

Steve looked like he might cry, but he settled down for the time being at the threat.

“Now. What do you two want for lunch? We can eat here, or we can head somewhere else?”

Tony shrugged. “I’d hate to burst Little Bit’s bubble by leaving early, how ‘bout you Bruce? Would you be so heartless?”

Bruce looked offended. “I’d never!” he gave Bucky an easy smile. “We can just eat here. If you take him and find us a table, Tony and I can go order food.”

Bucky murmured his thanks and Tony tugged his wallet from his pants. “No.” he waved Bucky off as he made to pay for lunch. “I got this. I _want_ to do this.” He pointed to a table. “Now go and sit down, Bruce and I can take care of things.”

* * *

 

Natasha brought Phil’s attention go the subject of lunch when she caught his stomach making rather unseemly sounds as they entered the room holding the animals that could be touched and photographed. Clint, of course, was absolutely preoccupied with the fact that he could _actually touch a stingray._ He could care less about eating lunch.

“Suppose we should stop soon.” He agreed. “But this is the last thing we haven’t done yet, so let’s let him have fun for a while longer before we wrap things up.”

Natasha laughed at Clint’s high-pitched _squeal_ when he finally touched one of the rays as it swam by, eyes light. “Yes. We will not take this away from him until he is ready.” She decided, snapping a few pictures and videos on her phone.

Phil found a good spot to surveil the entire room and settled himself comfortably against the wall, watching Natasha follow Clint around for a while, arms crossed over his chest. He checked his watch and cleared his throat. “Clint?” he moved closer and put a hand on Clint’s back. “It’s time to go home.”

Clint was on the verge of pouting when something occurred to him. “C’n we buy somethin’ at the shop?” he asked eagerly, smiling.

“Please?” Natasha chimed in, and Phil rolled his eyes.

“Alright. One thing each, then we go to eat.”

* * *

 

Steve was falling asleep by the time they’d finished lunch. Bucky stretched lazily. “You two want anything else, before we head on back for his nap?”

Tony suppressed a yawn. “Nah, I’m good. Bruce?”

Bruce shook his head. “I’m okay to start heading back. Did you call Happy?”

Tony pulled his phone out of his coat and sent a quick text. “There.”

“Bruce, can you take the trash to the trashcan?” Bucky asked, jostling Steve. “Come on, pal. You gotta stay awake for me. We gotta get to the car.”

Steve whined.

“No, you gotta stay big enough till we get in the car.”

Steve whined again.

“Hey, no. Come on. No melt downs until we get in the car.” He hefted Steve up to his feet, Tony following. Bucky cursed under his breath as Steve kept whining. “We gotta get outta here and fast. He’s half way to a tantrum.”

“That’s no good.” Tony commented as they hauled ass quickly around the main loop and back towards the entrance.

Fortunately for them, in the ten minutes it took to get back to the gate, Happy had pulled up to the curb and was waiting on them with the engine running.

“Oh, thank God.” Bucky murmured, maneuvering Steve into the back seat. “Tony, sit up front with Happy. Bruce can sit in the back with us. I gotta be with Steve.” Bruce slid into the other seat and shut the door as Bucky let Steve lean against him. Tony settled comfortably into the front seat and shut his eyes, fully intending on dozing the rest of the trip back to the tower.

“Steve?” Bruce queried, rubbing Steve’s shoulder softly. “How ya feelin’ buddy?”

Steve whined through his teeth, hugging Bucky’s metal arm and pressing his face to his shoulder.

“I think he’s crashing. It took a lot out of him to be this age and to be out around people today.” Bucky surmised, and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. “S’okay, pal. We’ll be home soon enough, and then all of us can get our baths so we don’t smell like zoo anymore, and then we can all curl up and watch something,” he soothed.

Bruce hummed softly. “That sounds nice.” He admitted. It had been a while since they’d done anything just for the sake of leisure, and it was unreasonably exhausting. Bruce let his head fall back against the headrest. “M’gonna take a nap. Wake me up when we get there.”

* * *

 

Clint and Natasha sported matching tee shirts as they made their way back up the elevator, Clint fading by the minute. Phil chuckled softly. “Somebody’s tired, huh?” he wrapped an arm around Clint, and Clint let his head drop to Phil’s shoulder.

“Nuh-uh,” he protested tiredly. “Not Stevie. Don’t need a nap. Not a baby.”

“Didn’t say you were,” Phil responded easily, guiding Clint out of the elevator and towards the sofa in the living room. “But neither am I, and sometimes I take naps.” He gently pressed Clint down onto the couch and draped a blanket over him. “Just rest a second for me. Nat and I will be here when you wake up, promise.”

Natasha crept off to feed Liho while Phil took the opportunity for a quick shower, returning to the common floor just as the others traipsed in from the zoo. Gesturing quickly before anyone spoke, he pointed to Clint’s sleeping form.

“If you wake him up, it’s on you to get him back to sleep.” He murmured quietly.

A subdued Bruce and Tony both gave him nods.

“So how was the zoo?”

“Fun,” Tony yawned. “Found out Bruce has an admirer.”

Bruce bristled. “She’s a high schooler,” he hissed softly, and crossed his arms.

“Boys,” Phil admonished, as Bucky rocked from side to side to soothe a fussing Steve. “Not in front of Steve. I’m glad you had fun, but you both smell like animals, so get yourselves up and shower off.”

Tony turned and shuffled off in the wrong direction, Bruce grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him the right way. “How is it possible you can still be so snarky when you’re half asleep?” he wondered, and Tony leaned against him as they entered the elevator.

“Mm, s’a talent, Brucie,” he murmured, and Bruce rolled his eyes.

“How’s Stevie?” Phil asked quietly as the elevator closed on the two older ones.

“He was okay for today, but I think it took a lot out of him to be bigger than normal,” Bucky commented, and Steve started to cry. “I’ll be back,” he told Phil, not wanting to wake Clint with a crying baby. Bucky took the stairs, super strength making it possible to reach the family floor just as Bruce and Tony were shuffling off to root out clean clothes. Bucky strode down to the nursery and flicked on the light, toeing the door shut behind them. “Baby boy,” he sighed, dumping the backpack off his shoulder and hugging Steve close. Steve’s exhausted tears came to a crescendo, and Bucky resigned himself to simply having a sobbing boy as he wrangled Steve into some clean clothes. He could bathe him when he wasn’t in the midst of a full-scale meltdown, but for now he needed to get Steve calm. Bucky picked up Steve’s blanket and sat down in the middle of the floor, draping the soft fabric over his shoulder. Steve buried his face into the familiar object and keened loudly as Bucky rocked from side to side.

Bruce could hear the distressed crying through the door as he showered off, Tony down the hall in the other bathroom to save time. One of the perks of living in the tower meant that there was always hot water, no matter how many people took showers. It was heavenly. Bruce tilted his head back and let out a little moan as the hot water cascaded down his back, soothing tight muscles. He stood there for several more minutes, until the door clicked open.

“Are you drowning in there?” Tony leaned against the sink, smirking to himself as Bruce yelped in shock.

“Tony, you can’t just walk in on people when they’re in the shower!”

“I think I just did.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “At least close your eyes when I get out.” He turned off the water.

Tony helpfully handed him a towel through a small gap in the curtain. “Seen you naked before a hundred times,” he pointed out. "Post Hulk."

“Yeah well,” Bruce wrapped the towel around his waist. “That’s different. Now can you leave so I can get dressed?” he pulled the curtains back and Tony raised his hands up innocently.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll go check on the baby.”

Bruce waited until Tony’s footsteps receded down the hall before dropping the towel and sliding into his clean pajamas. There really was a healing property to just being clean and wearing clean clothes. He wadded up the dirty clothes and padded down the hall to their room, dumping his clothes in the hamper. “Ugh, Tony,” he shook his head, bending to gather up all of Tony’s scattered clothes. “What did he do, walk naked down the hall to the shower?” Knowing Tony, he had. Bruce straightened up and followed the sounds of slightly less loud distress to Steve’s nursery, sticking his head in. “How’s he doing?”

Bucky looked harried. “Um, about as well as to be expected.” He said wearily. “Tony came in and that seemed to help a little bit.”

Bruce looked the scene over before finally deciding to sit down on Bucky’s opposite side. “Steve?” he spoke softly. “It’s okay. Everyone is here, see? Bucky’s here, I’m here, Tony’s here… we’re all fine.” Steve squirmed around until he could turn his head once more, desperation seeming to decrease as he laid eyes on Bruce. “That’s it, buddy,” Bruce coaxed gently. “Everything is alright.” He whispered, taking one of Steve’s hands as he reached for him. Bruce rubbed a thumb over Steve’s knuckles soothingly. “Calm down now, it’s okay.” He kept talking until Steve’s sobs had almost stopped altogether. “Tony?” he spoke clearly but gently. “Can you get me a tissue please?”

Tony unfolded himself and grabbed the box from on top of the dresser, handing it to Bruce.

“Thank you,” Bruce pulled one from the box and gently wiped off Steve’s face. “There we go,” he crooned. “That feels better, doesn’t it?” he tossed the used tissue neatly across the room, landing a perfect shot in the trashcan. Tony looked impressed, and Bruce smirked. “Years of experience in medicine.” He explained, eyes alight with smugness. Bruce turned back to Steve. “You wanna go downstairs now, Stevie? We can watch a movie and lay on the couch?”

Stevie nodded pitifully, Bucky rubbing his back with a large hand. “Alright, pal. Let’s go do that. Tony and Bruce will be right with us, don’t worry.” He clarified, when Steve looked distressed again.

Steve didn’t settle until they were all piled up in the floor together, blankets and pillows galore stolen from everyone’s rooms and from the spare closets to create an epically large nest of coziness. Safely sandwiched between Bruce and Tony on one side and Bucky on the other, Steve finally relaxed. Tony toyed with his hair as Bruce debated in a soft volume with Bucky about what to watch. Clint’s soft snores drifted down from the sofa, as Natasha and Phil made hot cocoa in the kitchen. The sweet smell wafted through the room as Liho came stepping daintily over to curl against Bruce, seeming miffed that she had not been invited to cuddle.

Bruce twined his free arm around the cat with a laugh. “It’s okay. You can still cuddle with us.” He assured her, and she purred contentedly. “So, _101 Dalmatians_?” he asked, and Bucky nodded.

“It’s one of Stevie’s favorites.”

Natasha came in as the opening credits rolled, carrying travel mugs with lids on them. “So nobody spills,” she gave Bruce and Tony firm looks as she passed off the mugs.

Phil and Natasha both curled up on either end of the sofa, maneuvering the sleeping Clint so that he was laying across both of their laps.

It had been an incredibly satisfying day. Even if Clint fell asleep before he got to tell everyone how much fun he’d had.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, before something else big happens that you devious people talked me into ;) Translations at end.

It was a slow day, not much going on for the Avengers: Tony lying on the sofa with Steve curled up against him, Bruce and Clint sprawled out on the floor. The television played quietly in the background. Liho purred from underneath an armchair. The coffee maker gurgled softly as JARVIS clicked it into action.

Clint was still wearing his tee from the aquarium because Phil hadn’t been able to get him to take it off to go to bed the night before. Bucky was in the kitchen making pancakes for everyone, and Natasha had gone downstairs to the gym to spar with Phil. Steve dozed on and off as Tony absently used one hand to play with Steve’s hair and the other hand to tinker with a hologram of one of his suit designs that JARVIS had projected above Steve’s back. Steve’s breath came in comforting movements, Tony keeping tabs in the back of his mind of the rise and fall of Steve’s chest and back.

The soft early-morning smell of maple syrup and wheat pancakes drifted in from the kitchen, and Tony yawned slowly, blinking a few times as he swiped the holo away. He turned his attention to the episode of Paw Patrol Bruce and Clint were watching, one arm going above his head to stretch as the other rubbed Steve’s back. “Wake up, little captain,” he sang softly. Steve scrunched his face up adorably and mewled. He’d forgotten his pacifier and opted for his fingers instead. A spot of drool had built on Tony’s middle, but he didn’t mind. “C’mon, piccolo,” Tony brought his other hand down to tap lightly at Steve’s cheek, eyes moving from the tv screen. “There’s pancakes,” he wheedled. He knew Stevie loved pancakes—mostly because any food can become a finger food, and syrup is delightfully sticky. Stevie whined again. “You can’t sleep all day,” Tony tried, as Bucky came strolling in, a smattering of flour on his cheek and his hair on top of his head.

“Lemme try.” Bucky offered with a smile. He leaned down, right in Steve’s ear and murmured something softly in a language Tony didn’t understand. Steve let himself be picked up.

“What’d you do?” Tony asked curiously, legs tingling as the circulation returned. He loved being the one Steve turned to for cuddles, but damn if he didn’t weigh a hefty chunk and take away the use of Tony’s extremities.

Bucky smiled and ran a hand through Steve’s fluffed up hair, smoothing it. “Guess you’ll never know if you don’t learn Gaelic, fear cliste.” He winked, leaving Tony puzzling over what moniker Bucky had picked out for him this time.

Tony filed the information away for later, when he and JARVIS could work together, standing and drifting towards the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and watched as Bucky settled into the table, quickly moving the plate out of Steve’s reach. Tony laughed softly to himself, leaning against the counter and sipping at his warm brew. It’d be a moment before the caffeine had kicked in enough for him to be able to assemble a plate. He listened as the end theme music drifted back from the television and Clint began whining as Bruce shut it off. A moment later they traipsed into the kitchen, Bruce’s arm over Clint’s shoulders. “Go and sit down. I’ll grab you a plate. What do you want to drink?” Clint shrugged grumpily and Bruce rolled his eyes. “Alright. But you’re getting orange juice, so don’t pout at me if it isn’t what you wanted.”

Tony set his coffee down and followed in Bruce’s footsteps, filling a plate with pancakes and bacon, smothering them over in a pool of butter and syrup. He dropped into his customary seat across the table from Bucky and Steve, watching as Bucky alternated between scarfing down bites for himself and feeding ones to a picky Steve. It was better than anything tv had to offer, far more entertaining. This went on for several minutes as Bruce, Tony, and Clint managed to feed themselves with little mess. The only casualty was Bruce’s Armani sweats that Tony had forced him into the night before. Style AND comfort. There could be both. He made a wounded sound as Bruce used his napkin to wipe the spill up.

“This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Forgive me if my motor skills aren’t all that great after having been essentially turned inside out a day ago so that a giant green _murder machine_ could wreak havoc on yet another small town.”

Tony looked down at his plate sheepishly.

“Fuck, Bruce, I’m sorry.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed and Tony raised his hands. “Alright, I’m out. Going down to the lab to make those modifications. Can’t seem to get the word vomit under control.” He stood abruptly and made his way out, pausing and making a little half-turn towards Bucky. “Sorry for cursing in front of the kids.” He mumbled, and Bucky nodded.

“Remember, Phil doesn’t want you down there for too long if you’re not completely in the right mindset.”

Tony turned his back on the table and steadily moved forward, waving the back of his hand in acknowledgment.

The doors swooshed shut behind him and Bruce stood up, gathering his and Tony’s dishes. “I’m going up to get dressed. Betty said she’d come by later. I think we’re going to the botanical gardens today.” He blushed a little at the mention of his former love interest, dishes clattering noisily as he set them down with less tact than adult Bruce possessed.

Bucky grinned as he took a baby wipe to Steve’s face, aggressively attacking the caked on syrup. Steve whined. “How’s it going with her, anyway? You two still seeing stars?” he winked just to see Bruce blush again. It was endearing.

Bruce crossed his arms and rubbed at one elbow, looking nervous. “I… don’t know,” he said finally, looking conflicted.

“Do you want to have her back in your life?” Bucky asked seriously, patting Steve’s back as he discarded the wipe and took him into his lap. Steve immediately seized upon the few strands of hair that had fallen from Bucky’s bun, toying with them in fascination.

“I mean, yeah, but—“

Clint interjected loudly. “Can I go watch tv now?” he whined, pointing at his plate. “I ate all my food!”

Bucky leaned over and scrutinized the plate before giving him an approving nod. “Yeah, go on, pal. Not too loud!” he called to Clint’s retreating back. Naturally the six year old made no answer. He turned back to Bruce, face soft. “But you aren’t sure how?”

Bruce let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Yeah, I mean… we sorta… lost all contact for a while. It was rough. Plus her Dad’s that…” he caught himself before he swore in front of Steve. “that… not so nice General Ross.”

Bucky hummed thoughtfully, eyes lighting as Bruce struggled and couldn’t seem to find a suitable replacement for his curse word. “I know what you mean,” he assured. “But… if things have been going well the last few dates, why the trepidation?”

Bruce mumbled something to his socks and it took a moment before Bucky processed it. When he finally did, he let out a hum, standing up and carting Steve over to where Bruce stood near the sink. “Hey,” he set a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Listen, you don’t have to worry about that. If anything, I think Hulk understands that you care a great deal for Betty. If he can understand that you care for all of us, and not harm us, then you have nothing to worry about with Betty. Yeah?” he stared into conflicted eyes with a look of soft confidence.

“I guess,” he mumbled finally, not seeming entirely convinced. His other half was still a touchy subject. Bruce let Bucky’s hand rest against his shoulder for a few more moments before he sighed heavily. “I gotta get dressed.”

“Alright. Good luck today.”

“Thanks.”

Bucky watched him go, stroking a hand through Steve’s hair. He’d let Clint and Steve stay in their pajamas for a bit before he wrangled them upstairs to put on their day clothes. Hopefully by then Phil and Natasha would be back to help. Clint was an absolute hellion about bath time. He wandered in and sat down on the sofa, listening as JARVIS helpfully announced that Clint had two episodes left before he was done for the morning. Clint predictably grumbled more, reaching down to rub absently at the scars left in his leg from the bullet wounds.

Bucky settled Steve beside him and let him watch the tv for a while, scrolling through for any available debriefings or alerts on his phone. Intel said that a few of the guys from their last run had survived, though they hadn’t been able to peg down exactly where they were hiding out yet. That was still in the air. Notes from Tony’s facial recognition software in the suit showed that one of them, though badly burned through the face, was the bastard that had injured Clint on their last little foray. Bucky itched with the desire to put a bullet through his forehead. Unfortunately, they were under orders to bring him back alive if they could capture him.

* * *

 

It was perfectly timed—as soon as Clint’s tv consumption was cut off, Natasha and Phil arrived freshly showered and dressed in casual day clothes. Natasha wound her way over and sat down in front of Clint. “Guess what, moy yastreb?” she asked, cupping his cheeks playfully.

Clint squirmed and frowned. “What?” his voice was muffled. Natasha had pushed his cheeks together to make them squished.

She laughed throatily and let go of his face. “Today marks the first day of our rotation off schedule! We have an entire glorious month to spend off.” She rummaged in her jacket and produced a pack of plane tickets. “I booked us into a luxury resort in Spain. Hope your Spanish skills are still sharp.”

His face lit up. “I get to spend a whole month with you?” he asked, bouncing excitedly in place before throwing his arms around her.

She hugged him tightly. “I have missed spending time alone with you,” she admitted in his ear.

He breathed in her hair, excitement of travel bubbling in his stomach. “Can we go now?” he asked excitedly, pulling away and grinning from ear to ear.

“We have to pack our bags first!” She laughed at his enthusiasm and looked up at Phil, eyes sparkling as she murmured a thank you. He gave a nod. His agents deserved it. They’d been pushing themselves so far lately that Clint’s therapist wasn’t satisfied with his progress. His leg still wasn’t where it should be on the healing scale, so she’d recommended several weeks somewhere less exciting, so he could recoup with no heavy exercises.

“Then come on!” Clint whined and stood up, tugging on her hand impatiently. “We gotta pack!”

She unfolded herself gracefully and let herself be dragged to the elevator while Bucky and Phil looked on in amusement. Steve chewed on his fingers and Bucky sighed as the doors closed on the happy couple. “You really shouldn’t chew on those yucky fingers, baby.” He ran a hand through Steve’s hair and Steve hummed, looking up at him with those big eyes he couldn’t resist.

Phil wandered in and sat down on the end of the sofa Steve wasn’t occupying, Steve looking pleased as punch to have two of them there to smother him in attention. He turned his head and stared at Phil before dropping his forehead to nuzzle affectionately at the other man’s shoulder. “What are you two doing today? I know Bruce is going out with Betty, and Clint and Natasha have a flight at four, Tony I’m assuming is downstairs for a while.” He rubbed Steve’s shoulder softly.

Bucky shrugged. “I’d like to spar again, but I don’t have a partner if Natalia is out and Steve is regressed.”

Phil hummed. “If Steve comes around later, I can call Maria. We can do a little two on two if you’re interested? Make things interesting and give you two a chance to practice, since you haven’t done anything in a while.”

“That sounds good. I think I’m going to take him up for a bath right now, though. Maybe kill two birds with one stone, since I’m sure I stink after taking care of him for a couple days without bathing myself.”

* * *

 

The room was utter chaos as the two assassins hastily packed for their vacation. Okay, so maybe most of the mess was Clint’s, but sue him. He’d spent the last two days fully in headspace, and he’d only come out of it after a solid thirty minutes of gentle coaxing on Natasha’s part. He had license to be messy.

“Sunglasses?”

“I have them in my bag.”

“Bathing suits?”

She gave a sly grin. “Optional, since we are on a private property, but I have those too.”

He flushed a little and she laughed as he rolled up his socks and shoved them into a zipper compartment. “Arms?”

“Light. I doubt we will incur conflict, though it is best to be prepared. We are not flying commercial, since the agency has contracted a jet. If you wanted to pack heavier, you would have license to do so.” She showed off her cleverly hidden knives and pistol, along with her jewelry that concealed her widow’s bite.

“Right.” He nodded and zipped a few extra clips into his bag anyway, pistol going into his jacket with the hidden compartment. After a moment of thought he added his collapsible staff to the bottom of his suitcase. A haphazard piling of shirts and pants followed, underwear going in almost as a second thought.

Natasha threw a pair of shoes at him and he caught them on instinct, settling them into what little space remained in the suitcase. “Thanks. I was in danger of getting there with one pair of shoes.”

She conspicuously added a box of condoms to one compartment of her suitcase, and it made him want to pin her to the wall right then and there. He zipped his suitcase closed and tossed his jacket on, hefting the suitcase to the floor and watching as she went over the contents of her suitcase and bag once more, nodding in satisfaction before zipping it closed.

“Ready?”

“I have never been more ready,” she responded, and grabbed his shirt, pulling him to her quickly for a kiss. Oh yeah, he was ready for this vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fear cliste-- Gaelic; smart man  
> moy yastreb-- Russian; my hawk  
> piccolo-- Italian; little one


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Tasha's vacation is interrupted by an outlandish visit. Tony, Bucky, and Steve's quiet afternoon becomes far less stable. Bruce's date with Betty is absolutely ruined by the Big Guy's appearance. A fan favorite works a little mischief on Sakaar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY it's taken so long! A few of you were worried I'd abandoned this one! Don't worry, I haven't. I've taken your suggestions into consideration, and so working on the plot for this chapter took a bit longer than I thought since it sort of turned out as an AU of Ragnarok for the last part of this story. (Should I bring in Valkyrie later on? Help!)

Clint dozed on and off, Natasha curled around him. The warmth of the Spanish sun had finally become just enough that it woke him. He shifted and hissed a little.

“Sunburned?” Natasha didn’t even open her eyes. If he hadn’t come to realize this was the norm for her, he’d have been scared out of his wits.

“Maybe a little.” He decided. Well, more than a little. He’d actually forgotten to put on sunscreen before they’d gone to lay out by the pool.

“You should have put on sunscreen.” Natasha called his bluff, sitting up and putting her wide brimmed hat back on. Her hair spilled down her back, the black one piece suit she wore plunging sinfully deep between her cleavage. It was a picture Clint was eager to commit to memory.

“Maybe you’re right.” He agreed as he too sat up. He adjusted his sunglasses. “Ready to head in for a bite to eat? I’m starved.”

Natasha’s posture was rigid, her eyes peeled against the tree line a few kilometers from their rented property.

“Nat?” he asked, brows knitting.

Natasha murmured a filthy curse in Russian and rolled to the side, grabbing him around the middle. The force of the roll carried the two of them into the pool—a rather fortunate coincidence, as a moment later the spot where they had lain went up in flames. The water shorted out Clint’s hearing aids, and it was just as well he was left deaf, because the explosion carried through the water, causing Natasha’s ears to ring. Tumbling head over heels, the two clung onto one another until things settled, coming up for air to the sight of rubble and smoke, flames here and there dotting what was left of the house and the delicate landscaping.

Clint had to hand it to their assailant—whoever could find this remote location, and pick such a good time to ambush the two assassins was truly talented. A part of him wondered whether or not they had known about him traveling with his cheap hearing aids, too. If he’d been wearing his fancy Stark updgraded ones, he wouldn’t have this problem. Unfortunately, Tony had wanted to make a few tweaks to them before he left, so he’d left them in the workshop on the way to the airport.

Once the two had found a piece of rubble to hide behind, they caught their breath and waited, dripping wet and bleeding in spots where the shrapnel had gotten to them.

 _Agent Romanoff._ The voice came from nowhere discernible, and it had Natasha’s every nerve ending on the highest possible alert. _Agent Romanoff, please do your partner the courtesy of translating what I am saying. He will begin to become upset if we do not keep him in the loop._

Natasha’s eyes flashed with anger. She had yet to figure out who this unknown assailant was, nor how he knew just about everything that had happened to her and Clint in the past few months, right down to Clint’s hearing aids shorting out. But she would find out who it was, and they would pay for interrupting her R and R.

She tapped Clint’s arm and began to translate what the voice was saying. His frown deepened as he watched her fingers move swiftly through the signs. _You and Agent Barton are tricky ones to find, unlike your teammates. You leave almost no traces behind, and always choose the most remote places for your recuperation._ Clint’s frown was so deep Natasha worried he would stick his face that way. _But I have found you, oh yes, I have found you—and in most excellent health, it would seem._ _I hope my friendly salutation didn’t leave anyone in dire straits. It wouldn’t do to have the guests injured before they even came to the party._ The man laughed, a warm and inviting sound, and Natasha scowled deeper.  _Try not to leave the compound. I’m sending a few of my friends to pick you up. They’ll be here in five, four, three, two, one! Safe travels everyone!_

The sound of engines filled the air, and soon a smaller jet was landing on the undamaged grass to the side of the house, ramp extending; down the ramp plodded two muscular humanoids with face paint on and what appeared to be some sort of Asgardian armor. It reminded Clint of Thor’s battle armor, but it was different somehow. Maybe these guys were from another planet?

The two assassins barely had time to think before they were attempting to harm their assailants. However, the assailants seemed… complacent? A moment later a pricking pain was felt in Clint’s neck, a full body shock subduing the newest fodder for the Grand Master’s game show. One twisted the dial on Clint’s controller, while the other used a shocking net to subdue Natasha. The agents fell like a bag of bricks, and the two handlers approached the downed assassins.

“Sir?” they asked, speaking into their wrist pieces in unison.

“Leave the girl. Take the archer.”

“Can do, sir. And the others?”

“We have the Asgardian. Bring me the big guy.”

“Yes, Grand Master.” Carelessly, not minding what got caught in the net or ripped out, they unwound Natasha and left her in the grass, together picking up Clint by the ankles and wrists, letting him dangle between them as the re-boarded their ship. A few strands of Natasha's hair hung from the net tossed over the taller one's shoulder.

“Setting sights for target C. Standby for live coverage of acquisition.”

The sleek ship lifted off once more, and soon was a blur in the skies.

* * *

 

Bruce and Betty had stopped for lunch at one of her favorite cafes, smiling softly at one another over the table. The day had gone far better than Bruce had ever hoped, and Betty was well on her way to making this a weekly appointment with him. They’d talked about everything over lunch, and decided that they wanted to make things work a second time. They’d move slower this time, take their time and make sure to give each other a relative amount of space, but they wanted to get back together.

It was when they were sharing dessert that the ruckus kicked up. Down the street, in the direction of the Tower, explosions kicked up. Immediately, Bruce and Betty froze.

“Please…no…” Bruce pleaded with Hulk, as Betty’s eyes widened.

“Bruce?” she asked, setting her fork down and standing up slowly.

“Not today, please…” he begged, skin tinged with green. “Hulk-”

But it was too late, Hulk was exploding out of Bruce’s body, roaring angry that anyone was attacking his friends, and their home. Hulk spared a look for Betty after the first initial roar. “Betty not move.” Hulk commanded, a bit of Bruce’s earnest hazel showing in his eyes. “Stay put. Stay safe.”

“I…I will,” Betty stammered, still shaken from the noise. “Wait!” she hollered after him as he turned to leave.

“What?” Hulk asked, irritated, clearly wanting to go and help.

“You stay safe too, Hulk. You’re protecting someone precious to me. Promise you’ll be safe too.”

Hulk nodded. “Bruce safe. Hulk always protect Bruce.” He said with a grunt, as he turned and began to run down the sidewalk, roaring once again.

* * *

 

 

Tony had been in the middle of playing with Stevie and Bucky when the alarm sounded. It was complete chaos, and not even JARVIS could help them figure out what to do. Steve, being in headspace at the time, was immediately rushed off to a hiding spot. Bucky and Tony formed the brunt of the offense, and Hulk could be heard down the street through the broken windows, roaring to the aid of his friends. Tony, himself in headspace at the time, was scared shitless. He fought, but mainly to protect Stevie’s hiding spot and make sure Bucky got to stay with Steve when the fight was over—he was a baby, he needed Bucky even more than Tony did.

However, once Hulk joined the party, snarling and threatening the invaders to stop trying to kill his friends, it became evident to Tony and Bucky that they were far from the intended targets. The ship’s fire honed in on Hulk, and Hulk rose to the intended bait splendidly…until…he didn’t. Something small shot out from the guns, attaching to Hulk’s neck. Tony and Bucky watched with baited breath as Hulk convulsed and went still, falling to the pavement below. Then the jet swooped down, hovered, and pulled in the big guy with its beam of light. In the next split second the space ship was so far gone, Tony doubted even he could track it with JARVIS’ help.

Hulk was gone.

Frantic, Bucky pulled Steve from his hiding spot and checked him over, all the while shouting on the comms for JARVIS to locate Clint and Natasha. Tony’s knees shook so bad JARVIS had to lock the plates of his armor to keep him from falling over.

“J. J I don’t… I don’t feel…” Tony mumbled, waving his arm vaguely. “I don’t feel so good, J…” he trailed off, eyes rolling as he lost consciousness.

_Bucky, I don’t mean to alarm you, but Sir has just fainted. The suit is now the only thing keeping him upright. I believe that the shock and fear have caused an overload to his system being that he is still in headspace. As for your query, I have located Natasha, but am unable to access my data for either Hulk or Clint._

“Well, shit.”

* * *

 

Back on Sakaar, the life feed of the latest acquisitions was more successful than the Grand Master had hoped. The assembled crowds, riled up after the Lord of Thunder’s latest fight with Korg, were hungry for the promised new material. They screamed and cheered and booed when the others tried to interfere. The redheaded one was not popular with the crowds, but hey, everyone loved to hate someone. The prisoners with jobs? They loved to hate him, but the Grand Master still treated them benevolently. Rising from his chair at a cue from his team, he raised an arm and put on his most soft and doting smile.

“Thank you, thank you, my children for attending tonight’s performance! The Lord of Thunder did a great job, as usual!” he paused, the applause from Lord of Thunder’s admirerers was, well, thunderous. “Thank you. I hope you’ve enjoyed my little sneak peak of what’s to come! Some former comrades in arms of the great and mighty Lord of Thunder for you next time, once they’ve settled in and adjusted to their new home, of course.” He gave a little chuckle. “We’ll see how they fare against the others in the arena, but for now, I wish you all a good night!” His holo evaporated in a burst of fireworks, the distant shouting of the crowd barely reaching his box.

“You better give good tips, Lord of Mischief.” He threatened the shadow in the corner with a low undertone.

“It’s _god_ of mischief, and I assure you,” Loki stepped out from the shadows with a half grin on his sly face. “I do.”


	10. Chapter 10

“What the hell?” Clint sat up, moaning a little as his head throbbed. It was disconcerting, being unable to hear anything, but he’d dealt with it before. Rubbing at his head, he catalogued his surroundings, spying a familiar form hiding behind a post near the back of the holding area. 

“Bruce?” he asked. “Is that are you? What’s going on? Where are we?” 

Bruce peeked out from behind the pole and gestured to his lower half, hidden behind the metal. 

“Hulked out and didn’t have other clothes?” Clint asked.

_ Uh, yeah. I uh, I found…some but I don’t trust their cleanliness exactly.  _ Bruce signed, taking Clint’s unregulated tones as a sign that his aids weren’t there or weren’t working properly.

“Why’s that?” Clint scooted closer. 

_ Well…they’re kinda on a dead guy. _

* * *

__

Natasha groaned, pushing to a sitting position and immediately tapping at the bracelet she wore. “Stark, come in. Stark, we have a situation.” The rubble of the vacation home smoked, sending lazily curling tendrils of white smoke to the blue sky. The radio crackled for a moment. 

“Nat?” 

Natasha’s face crinkled in confusion. “James? Why are you using Tony’s comm? Is he down?” she was worried now. 

“I uh…” a loud wailing cut through behind his voice, and he cursed. “Goddamn it, hang on.” There was a lot of rustling on the other end, before James’s voice got closer once more. “Steve’s a mess right now. We had a little situation on our end too.” 

“And Tony?” She asked again, feeling something bubbling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Fine. Just passed out, but JARVIS is monitoring him. Bruce on the other hand…” 

“They took Clint,” she piped up. “Bombed out the house and took him.” Her gaze drifted over the pile of steaming rubble. “He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out his Nemo blanket burned in the fire.”

“Bruce is gone too. Hulk came up when we started getting attacked, but they tasered him until he passed out, then used some kinda light beam to get him onto their ship.” He patted Steve’s back and shushed him. “What do you think we’re dealing with? Mercs? Space bandits? Bounty hunters?” 

Natasha sighed, glad that Tony and Steve were safe for the moment. “First we need to get word to Maria and Phil. Fury can deploy another team of agents to work the case, but he won’t let anyone else touch the Avengers. Second, have JARVIS send a transport to my location. I’ll see what I can salvage and start walking towards town.” 

“Copy that. I’ll have him deploy a suit for you. I’m sure Tony won’t mind. I’ll talk with JARVIS, see what we can come up with from intel. Maybe he can help me find out who we’re dealing with.”

Natasha gave a firm nod, pushing to her feet and picking across the detonation site towards where the main house had stood. “Was he in headspace when this happened as well?” 

Bucky let out a sharp breath through his teeth as Steve finally began to calm. Outside the window, a few of Tony’s suits had been dispatched to start the rebuilding process. “Unfortunately, yes. And I don’t think he’ll come out of it so easily after what happened.” 

“Try your best. Phil and Maria will be there soon once they get word. Just hang in there for a few hours until we are all together again. Things won’t be nearly as bad when we are all together.” 

“Copy that. Hang tight until the suit gets there. JARVIS is on the line with Phil right now, so things should start to even out in a few hours.” 

“Kiss Stivi for me,” she begged as she reached the main house. “Over and out.” 

Bucky pet Steve’s hair absently, JARVIS hovering the hologram for the phone at eye level. All of Tony’s communications had been deferred to Bucky for the time being, so he was on hold with Pepper while he tried to contact Phil. Steve was clinging to him harshly, occasionally letting out a little hiccup. The suit for Natasha had been dispatched, and the clean up was going smoothly and quickly thanks to Tony’s extra suits. Now it was just a waiting game. He’d prefaced the call to Phil with their emergency code, now he was just waiting for him to see it as he paced around the kitchen and held Steve close. 

“I hope everyone’s okay,” he murmured nervously, as Phil finally picked up.

“Bucky? What is it, what’s wrong? Is everyone all right? What’s your status?” Phil was immediately on high alert. The sound of busy streets filtered through from his end of the line. 

“We got a situation, boss. Clint and Bruce are MIA. Someone bombed out the house where Clint and Nat were staying. They came here too. Steve and Tony are fine, but they took Hulk.”

“And you?” Phil’s voice was terse, Bucky could tell he was worried. 

“I’m fine. Nat’s en route to a suit JARVIS dispatched to take her home. Tony’s unconscious but improving. Steve is a mess. As soon as he comes around I’m gonna move Steve and Tony down to the panic room just in case. Half the suits are on standby for security detail and the other half are on damage control.” 

“Alright. Hill’s calling in another team to finish the op. Jet’s on the way for our extraction. Sit tight and make sure everyone gets to a secure location. We’ll be there in ten hours, think you can handle it till we get back?” 

“I’ll be fine, Phil. Just take care of yourselves and get here as quick as you can. Break laws if you have to, I don’t care. Just hurry.” 

Phil disconnected the line and Bucky took a deep breath through his nose. “JARVIS, you can put Pepper on now.”

 

* * *

“Stop squirming, this is the best we’ve got.” 

“Well, they came off a dead guy and I’m commando so excuse me for feeling a bit uncomfortable,” Bruce snapped, keeping his head up so that Clint could read his lips. “Ugh, I’m…I’m sorry Clint. Just a little out of sorts right now.” 

Clint leaned against the metal walls and sighed. “No. It’s fine. We’re in the same boat though.” 

“Any idea where we’re going?” Bruce asked curiously. 

Clint squinted in confusion. He’d missed that last bit. “Can we sign? It’s a little dark for me to see your face, and I keep getting too distracted to look at your lips anyway.” 

Bruce smiled.  _ Sure thing. I said, ‘do  you know where we’re going?’ _

_ Not a damn clue. When they took us, their bombs shorted my aids, and then they made Tasha sign so that I’d understand what they were saying. So even if they are from space, they understand that I can’t hear.  _

_ Interesting.  _ Bruce mused.  _ And how’s your headspace? You holding up okay?  _

Clint flushed a bit.  _ So far. But I’m not sure how long this will last.  _

_ If you do need me, I’m here as long as they don’t separate us.  _ Bruce promised. 


End file.
